Smiling to himself, Bernt made his way dowreet toward the lower city administrative district to check the culverts and storm drains and clear out any obstrus before doing the same underground iual sewer system. In a more socially scious world, this wouldn’t normally require a mage. Unfortunately, alchemical spills, mutated sewer denizens, slimes and other, more unusual problems pgued the city’s literal underbelly, mostly because of people like Julian the alchemist. Those required the attention of a mage – if not necessarily a very good one.

  Normally, running sewer checks was an arduous and b task that could take days, but he had a secret advahat would save him hours ing through filth.

  Tugging on a mental e that he’d fed two years earlier, he summoned his familiar. He could feel where she was, scampering toward him before she came crawling out of a retively storm drain just a few meters away. She was a skinny, long-fingered imp dressed in a filthy rag and standing nearly two feet tall. Like his wand, Bernt had found her in the sewers.

  She’d beeihan now, with gigantic, ugly-cute eyes that looked up at him in quivering terrutions would have required him to destroy her, but he just didn’t have the stomach for it. Some idiot had presumably tried to summon something else and torn her from her home pne instead. She certainly hadn’t had a choi the matter. He didn’t know what the demon pne was like, but he couldn’t imagihat being abandoned as garbage in a sewer was an improvement.

  So, he’d decided to adopt her as a familiar instead. A bond with a demon would teically make him a warlock – if the bond actually came with any infernal powers, which it didn’t. Still, most self-respeg mages avoided stepping anywhere he lihat separated them from warlocks.

  As it turned out, she didn’t actually mind the sewers very much. More importantly, she could move through them at astonishing speed and with the familiar bond, Bernt could get a rudimentary impression of what she saw down there. So, while he checked the storm drains above ground, she could scamper through the sewer mains below, looking for obstrus in the pipes and signs of pests and invaders.

  “Hey Jori, it’s time to run sewer checks. Just follow along below, alright?”

  The little imp chittered in response, dispying hideously sharp teeth. She couldn’t really talk, but he got a sense of agreement from her through the bond as she flitted around his legs, nipping at his boot before disappearing back down the drain in a fsh.

  He walked his usual pattern, cutting through the maze of streets and alleyways with practiced ease to check every storm drain and access shaft in the lower administrative district. Eventually, he felt a familiar psychic tug on his mind, drawing his attention to his bond to Jori. She’d found something.

  Through her eyes, he could see a mess of garbage, sticks, sludge and something whitish – probably hardened cooking grease – that was starting to accumute at a jun. It was already starting to slow down the flow of sewage in the main. Soon, the slower flow would deposit ever more material until the entire main was clogged. Something like that could make aire neighborhood uninhabitable for weeks, or worse, cause a disease outbreak.

  Moments ter, Bernt was desding down the shaft, where Jori was already waiting for him, jumping up and down iement. Smiling at her antics, he tossed her a bit of spicy dried rat jerky, which he’d made himself. It was a recipe he’d often used as an underfed orphan, before the king’s magefinders had discovered him. Sometimes he still liked to take a bite, but mostly he just made it for Jori now. She jumped up, snatg the bit of meat out of the air with her teeth and chittering happily.

  Her help was invaluable to him, because it meant that he could work almost twice as fast as anyone would expect of him. As a result, he could take time off to study, experiment with new spells and improve his spellcasting basics.

  Of course, Bernt had already learned all of the basitrips at the mage academy and a fair number of proper spells besides, eveing his basic pyromancer qualification. But true mastery was a long road. It was the mantra of every advanced mage he’d ever met. Getting a spell woven even slightly faster, or being a little bit more effit could theoretically save his life someday. He k wasn’t as good as actual adventuring experience, but it was something he could dht now that would be him iure.

  Maybe he should work on his basic force spells. He couldn’t blow a door off its hi a moment’s notice like Therion had done earlier, and that kind of thing could surely e in handy. sidering, he headed down toward the storm drain.

  –----

  At the end of the day, Bernt made his way back to the Halfbridge Underkeepers’ headquarters to submit his daily report and the citation. sidering that it was the headquarters of aire order of mages, it was tiny – just a main room for meetings and a single offi the back. Teically, all nine Underkeepers worked here, ti’s boss – the Archmage of the Underkeepers. In actuality, they only came here to pick up their daily assigs and to drop off reports.

  As soon as he opehe door, the man’s gravelly voice called his name from the back.

  “Bernt, Is that you? Get in here!”

  Sighing, Bernt cast a quick ing spell on his cloak and hung it up. It wouldn’t remove the stains, but it would kill the smell. He’d done his boots before entering.

  The owner of the voice was a crusty old fellow by the name of Ed. Opening the door to his office, he was greeted first by the ary cloud of pipe smoke that perpetually surrouhe man, followed by his equally ary scowl as the smoke cleared.

  “Bernt! What in all the hells happened out there today!?” he barked.

  “Ehm…” Berated, but then decided to just keep it simple, holding out the report with the citation on top. “I fihe slimes in the Crafter’s quarter and started the rounds for the lower administrative district. Why?”

  Ed snorted and then wheezed out a rattling cough.

  “WHY?” He took the proffered papers and waved them i’s face. “I had the damned magistrate’s secretary in here not two ho to tell me that they revoked Master Alchemist Julian’s lise. The city guard apparently raided his shop and arrested him to deliver the news. He’s currently in the dungeon for recklessly endangering citizens.” He took a breath, colleg himself.

  “So now, I want to know,” he said, pulling the citation off the top of the stack. “What could you have possibly cited that old prick for to provoke that kind of response before I even got my hands on it? Do you even know what’s going to happen to you when the case gets thrown out? You have to be able to back up your citations! We don’t have the Mages’ Guild here to cover our asses in a legal dispute!”

  At that, Bernt almost sighed in relief. Apparently Therion really did mao get the word out to some iial ears.

  “Rex, Ed. It’s fine.” He said, taking a seat. “It’s just a normal dumping citation. He fessed to it on the spot, and he’s ly a first-time offender.” That was an uatement. Julian and others like him were well-known to the Underkeepers and their dumping misdemeanors were well-doted. It’s just that their specific as could rarely be lio anything serious. But, if Julian’s slimes could be pared to samples from those that attacked Therion’s party and found to match… well, they’d probably already doheir ows.

  Either way, none of this was on the Underkeepers. The pace erating this iigation on their own. Maybe on behalf of the magistrate himself.

  Ed grunted in surprise, before finally b to actually read the citation in disbelief.

  “What happened?” He asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

  Bernt did his best not to look smug.

  “One of the alchemist’s wealthier patrons arrived as I was issuing the citation.” he expined, “and he didn’t seem very pleased with master Lu when he saw what it was about.”

  “Well I’ll be damned.” Ed muttered. Then he shook his head. “hought I’d see the day…”

  Bernt stood there for a moment, then he cleared his throat when Ed didn’t say anything further. He just tiaring at the citation in disbelief.

  “If that’s everything, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Ed blinked and looked up. “Ah, one more thing.” He reached uhe table and pulled out a smooth wooden box marked on top with an intricate decorative carving. “The magistrate’s secretary left this here for you – said it was a token of appreciation from ‘the alchemist’s victims’, whoever that’s supposed to be specifically.”

  Curious, Bernt reached out to take it, but Ed didn’t let go.

  “Bernt.” He said, his scowl suddenly radiating something more paternal than his usual grumpiness. “Be careful. You got the attention of some important people today. That sort of thing doesn’t usually end well for people like us.”

  With that, he let go.

  “Thanks.” Bernt answered. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Ed grunted and waved him out, back to his usual self.