Prompt: Stuck Underground

[Story Listing]

Lawrence owned by PT Piranha; Arthur owned by Tutty The Fruity

This is a commissioned prompt for PT Piranha for the month of October 2020. If you would like your own commission, consider subscribing to my Patreon; custom commission prompts start at 25$ a month!

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Deep underneath Linnhaven, a vast network of catacombs stretched in all directions. It consisted of the old city's outmoded aqueducts, drainage ways, and other relics of past monarchs. The labyrinthine hallways really showed their ages; the skittering of rats and the dripping of water droplets echoed through the lonely hallways.

Two young men were in the middle of their own expedition. One of them adjusted his black-rimmed glasses as he leaned in closer, shining a torch on the patterns. The other paced back and forth in place, twirling a shortsword like a baton.

"Hm... curious markings." He muttered to himself. "Some kind of ancient engravings, crude in nature. Even in the olden days, there were harkless hooligans."

"Is this what you came down to see?" His companion narrowed his grey eyes. "What, did someone etch their name on the wall?"

"It's going to be a pain to make out these markings. The accent was much thicker in the golden era." The bespectacled man muttered.

"Seriously, if you were looking for a bunch of old carvings, I know a tree on the surface all the couples use."

He attempted a cute little toss with the sword, but missed the catch; the hilt bounced off his wrist and splashed into a puddle nearby. He clicked his tongue.

"It smells like ass down here, holy shit." He kneeled down to pick it up.

"Stiff upper lip, Lawrence. Without eyesight, your other senses are improved. Perhaps you can make out rank stenches our mortal nostrils cannot." The bespectacled man clarified in a sardonic tone, his eyes not lifting from the wall. Lawrence simply turned to Arthur, his eyebrow perking up.

"...Did you just mansplain my blindness, Arthur??" Lawrence scoffed.

"Do I need to repeat myself? You're blind and dumb, don't tell me you're deaf too." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Hoooly crap the captain wasn't kidding about you." Lawrence grimaced, muttering to himself. He turned to face Arthur. "Listen, I only signed up to be your protection cuz I figured there'd be monsters down here. Y'know, giant rats, giant bats, giant oozes. Y'know, sewer monsters!"

"Mm, no, no I'm afraid the scariest thing in these sewers is bacterial salmonella." Arthur's mouth flattened. "If it makes you feel better, I didn't ask for your help as an escort either."

"It really doesn't! Thanks??" Lawrence raised his arms in the air.

"They wouldn't permit this expedition without help from the Royal Guard. As if I can't defend myself." Arthur shook his head. "I carry enough ammunition to take out a direbear, it's not like I'd skimp on firepower."

"You can carry a gun like that? You're scrawny as all hell." Lawrence noted in a decidedly straightforward manner. "Do you even know how to make a fist?"

"Why would I even bother with... look, you're distracting me from important work. If you're bored, feel free to engage in some shadowboxing off to the side. I'm sure your shadow will prove an equal match to you."

"...Yyyyup. This guy's pompous as hell." Lawrence rolled his eyes.

"It's called an inner monologue. Use it." Arthur retorted with biting sarcasm, hunching over closer with a magnifying glass to make out the inscriptions.

"Y'know what? Whatever. The sooner you're done sticking your nose in the dirt, the sooner we can get back to the surface." Lawrence turned around. "God, I'm ready for a burger... huh?"

Lawrence noticed something odd. He didn't see it, obviously, but his voice echoed strangely in the room as he turned to a far wall.

"...There's a wall here." Lawrence muttered.

"There isn't a wall-"

Arthur raised his head, and trailed off.

"...Oh. So there is."

"There isn't supposed to be a wall there." Lawrence blinked. "We came in that way, right?"

"We did. But there's no wedge. So the door's closed."

"Can't we just open it from this side?"

"No. That's what the wedge was for. To prop it open."

"What? I thought that was just some junk you found." Lawrence tilted his head.

"Do you throw away everything I hand you??" Arthur sputtered.

"If it's junk! Look, if it's so important, I'll go get-"

Lawrence trailed off. He clanged the end of his sword against the wall.

"...Okay. I see the point of the wedge now. I guess it was pretty important."

Arthur let out a sound not unlike a protracted raptor screech.

---

Thirty minutes later, the pair had scrounged up enough scrap to put together a small campfire. They huddled up next to it.

"Alright, show me. Make a fist." Lawrence muttered.

Arthur grunted and did so, holding it in front of his head to wave it. He didn't really have to hide his contempt; it was written clearly on Arthur's face.

"Knock it against the ground." Lawrence went on. He listened for the sound of Arthur's knuckles clicking along the cold stone floor. This invited a defeated frown from Lawrence.

"...The thumb goes on the outside, Arthur, buddy." Lawrence clarified with a tired expression.

Arthur groaned with a more abject, defeated tone, and slumped back against the wall.

"Well. Today has been a total wash." Arthur's hands settled in his lap.

"We saw some old rocks. So we got that going for us. Did you figure anything out."

"If I get another six months I could probably reverse engineer the door mechanism and reprogram the door." Arthur sighed.

"...Eh. They'll send someone down to check on us eventually." Lawrence leaned back. "It just sucks to sit here, doing nothing."

Lawrence frowned, folding his arms as he kicked his legs up.

"You can't even swing a sword, so we can't even get any sparring in... this sucks. Everything sucks."

"It is what it is." Arthur remarked bitterly, pulling out his travel bag. It was weighed down heavily with heavy contents; he began to rummage through it. Arthur grunted with the strain, something Lawrence quickly picked up on.

"Carrying a lot there, bud." Lawrence's eyebrow cocked upwards. "Pack lunch for the whole class?"

"I prefer to be prepared. I carry survivalist essentials. A tent, a utility knife, dynamite, fresh water, a filter net-"

"Dynamite?"

"Yes, dynamite. There's also a fishing line-"

"You had dynamite the entire time?" Lawrence tilted his head. "You weren't gonna think of blowing a hole in the wall with your big brain?"

"...Why would I blow up an ancient heritage site?" Arthur's mouth flattened. "I'm certain that would put us on some kind of watch list."

"It'd be awesome though." Lawrence smirked. "C'mon, pass it to me, I'll do the exploding for you!~"

"Then I would be an accessory to domestic terrorism." Arthur grimaced.

"C'mooooon, it'll be fun. Live a little! It's not like anyone uses these sewers anyway." Lawrence leaned forward. "And between you and me, the Queen's a total softie, so I'll put in a good word for you."

"...mrgh..." Arthur let out a pensive sound, staring right through Lawrence. He continued fishing around, until he pulled out several sticks of dynamite, bound together with twine.

"Perhaps the stench in these sewers are getting to me." Arthur noted with a forlorn expression, tossing the package to Lawrence. "Don't go blowing it all at one place."

"What? That's exactly what I'm gonna do. I don't deal with weak-ass explosions." Lawrence bounced to his feet, fumbling for a lighter.

"You really should be careful with where you place that," Arthur cautioned Lawrence, rising to his feet, eyeballing a lit fuse with increase trepidation.

"Look, I know you like staying indoors and sticking your nose in stuffy books, but I gotta back up to where the surface folk dwell. They got theatres and arcades and, like, entertainment." Lawrence tossed the dynamite over his shoulder with a carefree attitude.

"Yes, but the sound will-"

BOOM!

Lawrence had always taken a liking to the image of cool guys not looking at explosions, and he pulled off the look well... too back Arthur was too busy shielding his eyes from the flash of light to appreciate the gesture from Lawrence that simply radiated coolness.

The crumbling of rocks indicated that Lawrence had quite thoroughly blown a hole into the wall. He gestured with a smirk.

"See? Easy! Nothing to worry about!" Lawrence beamed.

"Yes. Nothing but the giant rats you were pining for."

"Oh yeah, I heard 'em just fine."

Between the smoking hole in the wall, a trio of shambling, shaggy, snarling rats, each the size of a wolf, hovered just behind the doorway, their fangs bared, their tongues lolling. They seemed to be nasty creatures.

Lawrence was already reaching for his sword, pointing it at them with confident swagger; Arthur sighed, checking his rifle as he raised it in turn.

"I was getting worried we weren't gonna see any action down here!"

"Yes, they seem keen for prey." Arthur hoisted the rifle with a surefire cock. "Deal with the rabble as you please. I will provide cover fire."

"Heh. More for me~" Lawrence cheered.

It seemed that the pair would have to fight their way out. This suited Lawrence just fine, and Arthur didn't seem altogether opposed to the idea. Friends were forged in the fires of crucible, it was often said.

...Well, if they weren't friends, they could be acquaintances just as well. Perhaps on a first-name basis! If they ever got out of the sewers alive, at least.