CWD: Sewer Skewers ~ Twenty-Seven

The Dinner Party, along with the mostly-welcome addition of Scrubz, Eduardo, and Kristie, left through the smashed front doors of the Marriott. They weren’t coming back from this mission without at least a clue about either this ‘Caelius Apicius’ character or the KC Cesspit.

Nacho had left his mobile kitchen backpack behind, as their trek was supposed to be just a quick run through town. He did load up his Storage Slots with sacks of treats in case they got pulled into combat, but he had his doubts that people would be happy reaching into a plastic bag and grabbing a scoop of soggy biscuits and gravy mid-fight. “Their loss, really. Hey, Reuben, Have you ever eaten biscuits and gravy out of a plastic bag-”

“Four times, but the third didn’t really count,” Reuben answered before Nacho had even finished asking. “Couldn't keep it down. Great for sobering up after a little too much fun at the campus parties.”

“Oh. My.” Brie bit off whatever she had been about to say, breathing heavily and looking away. “I did not need to know that about you. Please don’t come too close to me for a day or two.”

“See? Everyone said we had no more stories for each other, and they were wrong. How great is that?” Reuben’s facts didn't seem to matter to his wife. “It’s all good, love! I can hug you from a distance now, remember?”

Once they had reached the remnants of the streets, they took a right and walked down Fourteenth amid the piles of debris and a few monster corpses turning to sludge on the pavement. Nacho couldn’t help but feel a bit claustrophobic even though there were seven stories of buildings between the asphalt and the craggy stone ceiling. In this particular area, that was nearly one hundred feet of open space above him… which did absolutely nothing to help with the discomfort that came with being so far underground.

Scrubz pointed a metal-covered finger at a small shop. “Let’s hit that convenience store. It’s nice to have some of the comforts of home, and a soda sounds good.”

“It’ll be warm. Probably flat, too,” Kristie reminded him as she shined her bracelets into the derelict storefront. It was mostly intact, though the refrigerators and freezers had long since shut off, and anything spoiled had already rotted away or been eaten by some passing creature.

“Looks like you were wrong. Geothermal insulation for the win.” Scrubz grabbed a Physician Pepper and threw one to Nacho, then anyone else that raised a hand. The sealed drinks were still fizzy and cold, since the air was cool so far underground. Reuben grabbed a bag of Cheetos and soon was munching happily away. Brie didn’t eat anything, though she did take a bottle of water.

“Brie…” Nacho pointed at the bottle, “You’re Tier one now. That is about as useful as a bottle of air to you. You might as well have a soda; at least then you get to have your senses tickled.”

“Oh. Right.”

She sighed and glanced archly at Reuben, who shrugged and continued licking salty orange-hued flavoring off his fingers. “What? I like the taste; I know they won’t do anything for me.”

“Just seems wasteful, is all,” Brie quietly stated as they walked back to the street. The six of them took a quick tour of the block, and upon confirming that the city hall building was splattered with white droppings, they avoided startling the hundreds of cooing winged monsters that were using it as their dumping grounds.

As the group eased away from the Dovecote of Devilry, an intense *buzzing* filled the air, louder than hundreds of chainsaws working on deforesting the Amazon. They cautiously peeked into the Kansas City Hotel, shuddering at the sight of what could only in the most generous of terms still be called ‘bees’ inside. A few musk-ox-sized hymenopterans churned the air lazily at the top, where their gargantuan honeycomb filled the top floors of the building. Eduardo winced at the thought of needing to be a frontliner against them. “If those bees are just drones, the queen must be the size of a bus.”

“I think those are bee-sts, may-bee Bee-hemoths,” Reuben commented on the monsters, not even bothering to hide his self-satisfied grin.

“How about we do something productive instead of playing word games? Lady, how did he convince you to marry him?” Kristie stopped them from going further, pointing into the distance as Brie shrugged helplessly at her question. “There’s a park on the other side of City Hall. We didn’t go there, and there might be an entrance we missed.”

“I think we should make new friends. These ones are mean to me,” Reuben stage-whispered to Brie. She patted his arm consolingly and tugged him along, ignoring his dramatic pout. The team reversed course and worked their way up to Tenth Street just as a pigeon flew in from the south and dove through a wall that had been smashed out. “What. Did you see that? It looked like a normal pigeon, if a pigeon was a bodybuilder fresh from a competition. I hope we don’t need to squab-ble with them.”

The park they were searching for lay between the back of the city hall and the smooth rock of the cave’s northern wall. Kristie led the way with her Bracelets of Brightness illuminating the path. Between that, torches, and necrotic green streetlights, Nacho didn’t bother wasting his Firefly Potstickers just to eke out a fraction more visibility.

Kristie shined her bracelet lights on a statue at the south end of the park, a statue that most certainly hadn’t been around in old earth. The figure wore robes, very regal and medieval, like those of a king—but he was also wearing a cowboy hat and boots. His robes were cinched with a belt that had a Texas-shaped buckle. His face was also disturbingly detailed, particularly the hooked nose and over-full eyebrows.

The Warlock blinked in shock as she pointed at the statue. “That’s it! That’s Caelius Apicius, my Patron! This is a good sign.”

“Absolutely.” Nacho inspected the figure made of pure gold, finding that at the foot of the statue were concrete stairs leading even deeper underground. They carefully crossed the grass to the opening, and Kristie flashed her light down the hole. “Uh, going by the smell… I bet that’s the entrance to the KC Cesspit. Looks like we found everything we needed.”

Brie strode forward with her black and gold lacrosse stick, one of her glowing lacrosse balls loaded in the net. “Let’s see if we get the message when we go in.”

She stepped down the stairs without hesitation, followed by the rest of the team. Nacho was in the middle, keeping Firefly Potstickers buzzing around him almost as a nervous reflex. The team descended about halfway until they were finally given a message:

Welcome, Player, to the KC Cesspit of Patron Playfulness! Here you will delve into the secrets of another world! I mean, it’s your old world, but different. We’ve provided you with danger, municipal disasters, and civic fun! The Juxtaposition still believes in bureaucracy; it’s the absolute best!

B-b-bonus offer! You can earn a five thousand credit bonus for entering the inner sanctum and surviving! Double your bonus by bringing a friend into the Cesspit’s inner sanctum! The more the merrier!

“There’s going to be a multi-level marketing meeting down there, I’m sure of it. We should leave.” Reuben’s tone was too serious for the words that were coming out of his mouth. “If someone tries to make me sell essential oils one more time…!”

Nacho, ignoring the man due to being used to these sorts of antics, made sure everyone had their leftover biscuits ready in case they needed the boost to one of their stats. The staircase brought them into the fanciest sewer system imaginable, even if most of the tunnels were the same: a ledge on the right and a channel of water to the left. The ledge didn’t have even the smallest speck of dust on it, and the water was perfectly clear. “Not much of a cesspit so far… I’d love if it would stay that way.”

Every single inch of the wall was decorated with sculptures and friezes, as though every museum in the old world had dumped their supply here. It was also very well-lit, with glass light fixtures on the wall containing the same flickering green magical energy they had seen illuminating the streetlamps above. Easing through the dungeon, they eventually reached larger  rooms where whirlpools of fresh water swirled down floor drains.

The passageways split here and there, but they kept going straight as much as they could. Nacho tried to keep track of the passageways, but they all looked so… similar. On his own, he knew that he would have been hopelessly lost by now.

It was Scrubz, of all people, that produced a solution. He bought some cheap chalk and marked up the walls as they passed to make sure they could find their way back to the entrance. As unlikely as it seemed, each member of the team was starting to grow a newfound respect for the fistfighting Warrior.

They passed a few stairways that led upward, but Nacho didn’t know if leaving now would invalidate the bonus offer. They hadn’t come anywhere close to finding any kind of central room, and there were still no signs of any monsters. Eventually, just to make sure everything was staying the way they had left it, the group retraced their steps. Finding their original entrance, they silently agreed to take another tunnel.

It eventually led to what had to be the inner sanctum—the hallway was filled with statues, each one sixteen feet high, organized in two rows and facing each other. All of them held spears; a good sign, as they were looking for the Dragon Spear.

Nacho didn’t recognize the stone faces at first… all the way until his Firefly Potstickers buzzed around their heads. The New York Yankees cap and toga gave away the fact that one of them was Kronos, and a look at Caelius Apicius in his cowboy hat basically confirmed that all of these were Patrons who had sent their respective followers to hunt for the spear. What would have been a spartan warrior towered above all of them, the main difference between the ancient fighter and this Patron being the fact that he wore a fedora rather than the crested helmet.

The cook advanced ahead of the group to scout and wandered down the room, alert for any changes in danger levels around himself. “This is a grand hallway… and it sure doesn’t feel like a sewer. As for those statues, it’s clear to me that they’re Patrons. They all have spears, but I don’t think this is actually the inner sanctum. Nothing has tried to kill us yet, and that’s the only reasoning I have on the matter for the moment. Then there’s that.”

He pointed at an archway that led to another hall full of statues, and looked over his shoulder at his team. They nodded their agreement to continue, and Scrubz and Eduardo stepped forward to take point down the aisle between the statues. Brie and Kristie followed close behind them, both ready to hurl their projectiles—magic missile or exploding lacrosse ball of shiny doom.

When the stone figures didn’t throw anything, nothing exploded, and no screams of people falling into a trap arose, Nacho and Reuben hurried forward to peer through the archway. The grand hallway beyond was full of more statues carved into the walls, but there was a notable difference: these figures were of normal people, all with quivers on their backs, brandishing bows and arrows. There were grandmothers in dresses, old guys in overalls, kids coming home from baseball practice, middle-aged men wearing vintage War Stars t-shirts with beer bellies hanging over their jeans.

Nacho and the other five people walked through the room ready for those archer statues to attack… but still, nothing happened. Scrubz muttered in a hushed, harsh tone, “This place is starting to creep me out.”

At the end of the room waited a solid gold door with symbols orbiting four holes in the wall: four on the top and three on the bottom. The symbols were an odd collection of things: a beehive, a buffalo head, a sword, all the popular elements, as well as what appeared to be the bust of Abraham Lincoln from a rusty penny. The circles could be spun so the symbols aligned over the top of the four holes. The cook stepped forward, his hand reaching for a lever that stuck out right next to the odd door.

“Nobody touch it!” Reuben roared as he grabbed Nacho’s shirt and hauled him backward. “If the symbols are wrong, we die. I recognize that puzzle: it’s just like the one from a game…! Now that it makes sense, we need the Ivory Talon. This is great! I know exactly what we have to do.”

*Plink!* An arrow rattled off the stone wall next to Nacho’s head, striking directly where he would have been standing if Reuben hadn't pulled him back. The group dropped into their combat-ready positions instantly, since they had been on edge the entire time. The statues had started to move, but they had been expecting that.

The archer statues all turned to aim their arrows at the golden puzzle door. Through the archway, in the Patron spear room, statues began moving as well. After a tense wait, the System begrudgingly decided to clue the group in on what was happening.

Well, Player, you came close! Closer than you should be able to, at this Tier. For that, your reward is us trying to kill you!

Bonus objective not completed! Boo-hoo, so sad. You’re not in the KC Cesspit’s inner sanctum; you’re in the pre-sanctums! There are two pre-sanctum halls, since we always say it’s better to be pre-pre-prepared. Congrats! This is huge news. Not for you. You don’t have what you need to get into the inner sanctum itself, so no bonus for you! Also, you’ve been marked with the Scarlet Symbol Of Accusatory Trespassing.

That mark isn’t good, but you won’t know what it is until you get out of this peaceful, very pretty sewage system. Anyway, good job making it to the pre-sanctums. Bad job getting marked as problem children.

We see that one of you is a Satiation Player. That’s very interesting. We’re choosing you, Cook, because you are a shocking chef, aren’t you? Shocking indeed.

Nacho felt both a shiver on his neck and a sinking feeling in his stomach. “What did all of that mean? Is that from the game, too?”

“No~ope.” Reuben slammed his fists together and danced to the side as an arrow passed through the space where he had just been standing.

They had no time to figure it out, as things abruptly became even more concerning. Both sets of the statues—the Patrons and the Archers—moved again, stone grinding on stone, sliding closer to the humans. The spear points glowed red, as did the arrows in the bows of the stone statues. Nacho felt a sudden burning on the back of his neck and slapped a hand to the spot. A second later, the spears, bows, and statues returned to normal, non-moving stone, only the arrows no longer displayed arrow points or fletching like normal arrows. No, they looked like shish-kabobs.

Brie shrieked and grabbed at the back of her head, then wheeled and lifted her hair. “What’s there?”

“There’s… an A?” Nacho’s confused response barely managed to leave his mouth before his neck felt like it had likewise lit on fire, and from the pained cries, he wasn’t the only one.

Reuben came up behind him. “You got an S, Nacho. It is like we got branded, but they’re bright red. Almost like temporary tattoos?”

“Do you mean to tell me that I literally have a Scarlet Letter ‘A’ on the back of my neck?” Brie glared at the statues as though she were trying to figure out whether they would come back to life if she started smashing them. “We will be fixing this, now.”

They quickly found that they had all received different letters: T, S, S, O, A, and T, which were literally the first letters of the words in ‘Scarlet Symbol Of Accusatory Trespassing’, though the ‘T’ had been used twice.

Nacho had no idea why they’d been marked, or what it meant. He’d never heard of players being marked before. This was all completely new territory for him, and it made his past life feel almost like a waste. He tried to shake off that feeling, but he was furious.

A second later, another message popped up from the System, and it was clear that it wasn’t meant just for them.

Hey there, all you players going for the Dragon Spear! Nacho and the Chips Guild have found a very special door. You better hurry your tushies down to the DKCU if you wanna slam that special door in his face!

Alert! The six players who are right now standing so close and yet so far away from the Dragon Spear? They’ve been marked! It won’t be long before they and you know what that means for them in the near future!

Good luck, Players, and may your future be delicious!

“I don’t have time for this malarkey.” Brie looked around at all the glum faces and put up a brave front on their behalf, tossing her hand up and walking away. “I’m out. Stay fresh, cheese bags.”

Silence followed her for a long moment, until Scrubz broke it with a chuckle. “Abyss it, what? Where did that even come from?”

“We got together and made catchphrases for ourselves,” Reuben explained with as much cheer as he could force into his voice. “It’s a proud mark of success, and I highly recommend it.”

“Then mine would be… ‘death before taxes’?” Scrubz voiced the phrase more as a question than as anything else, and Reuben waved one hand in a see-saw motion.

“That’s not bad, but it sounds more like you want to revolt against the British than anything else. Keep going, though; you’ll find something that fits.”

“These symbols on the door… I think they’re clues.” Nacho brushed his fingers over the inlaid images and considered the three other dungeons they knew of. “The Hive, the Dovecote, and the Hen House of Hana Banana. Out of all of them, it was pretty clear that if we want a claw, we should go after either those huge pigeons, or the hen house. What do you guys think?”

No one had a better solution, so as they retraced their steps, they decided to climb any staircase they found that might offer a closer entrance to their base. Scrubz followed his chalk marks, aiming for a somewhat familiar area, considering what might be above them if they emerged in the wrong location. He finally suggested one that looked just like all the others: a fairly industrial staircase with smooth concrete and a painted railing.

When they reached the top, Scrubz pushed through the waiting door, and they found themselves on the street. Nacho inspected the buildings carefully and confirmed that they’d emerged next to the Yard House restaurant on Thirteenth and Main.

The minute they were all outside, the door slammed shut.

Howdy, Player! We don’t want you running back down into the KC Cesspit of Patron Playfulness; at least, not until you’ve earned a ticket through some serious bloodshed. For now, this door is closed!

The thunderous cacophony of dozens of the dreadful bodybuilder-sized pigeons shook the ground as they came sweeping down on feathery wings. Those were the only fluffy part of the angry birds: the rest of their bodies were bulging with ropy muscles and popping veins.

Even that wasn’t enough for the UnderFun. The roided-out pigeons hadn’t come alone: a roaring buzz erupted in the air a heartstopping second later. The bees were on their way.

Ever since the Brunch Force had arrived in the DKCU, the monsters hadn’t really focused on them, not even when Nacho had cooked up meat, nor when they’d taken over a hotel for a base. Now, the monster birds seemed to be drawn directly to Nacho and his friends.

Almost as if their necks were marked with a bright red letter that acted like monster bait.