Siorraid crouched on top of one of the various stone buildings ever present in the Root. The giant main cavern of Sela spread around him, covered almost entirely by the ever present luminous fungus. Despite the light, shadows encased his form, hiding him utterly from the eyes of the common people who milled below. He had found a spot that was sparsely covered by the detestable shrooms, and had ripped out the few remaining to create a small void. Then, with the fragment of shadow within, he had woven himself a shroud that protected him from the gaze of the people.

Of course, his ability didn’t require true darkness to hide him from unperceptive rabble. It hadn’t needed such a crutch in many years. Very little could stop Siorraids ability nowadays. The sun being the primary contender, but despite this, Siorraid preferred his little spot of darkness as he pondered what to do.

He was dressed in simple dark clothes. Nothing special, other than the dark color. Most people below prefered more colorful options. Numerous belts covered him from head to toe. Brown belts, cloth belts, leather belts and dyed belts. Around his shoulders and chest, as well as around his waist and legs. There were even several small belts that were triple wrapped around his ankles.

Upon each of these belts hung an assortment of various weapons. Nearly all held some form of dagger. Double bladed, single bladed, and stilettos. There was even a kitchen knife, strapped to the small of his back. Siorraid had them all. Some were small, others, like the dagger on his back, more resembled a short sword than a proper dagger. Regardless, they were all deadly. `

It was perhaps slightly disingenuous to describe the knives as being dangerous. For every sharpened bit of steel could kill with enough dedication. Many of the knives sported spots of rust that any self respecting person would grind away immediately. The handles were worn, or even nonexistent, only providing a rough tang as a grip.

While it was true that each of the knives that graced his person were sharpened to a mean point, it was not the type of edge that made sense for most of the blades. A razor thin edge was useful for trimming a beard, but not so for most other operations. At least if the knife is intended to be used more than once.

The knives contrasted sharply with the man’s clothes. Despite their simple cut, they were well made. Taylored to fit his slim form, and dyed impeccably. The knives, on the other hand, seemed disposable. A strange accessory to an otherwise dignified man.

The last notable thing about Siorraid was his cloak. It looked shredded. A thousand ribbons spread lazily around his person as they seemed to enhance the dense shadows that encased his form.

He watched the crowd below. As usual for this time of day, it was unspeakably dense. A thousand, thousands were filling up the too narrow streets of Sela and causing an ungodly racket that Siorraid had long since acclimatized to. Not the most pleasant place to be resting, but Siorraid had paused here for a reason.

He had rushed over the rooftops only to spot something interesting. A strange phenomenon. Something...No...Someone different.

While rushing over the crowds he had spotted a person using the Vanish ability. Nothing particularly extraordinary, nor interesting and largely useless in a street this dense. That had not caused him to pause. There were plenty of individuals in the city who knew the ability, or its little brother, Fade. Sure it was strange that he himself did not recognize the new user, but it was a large city after all. There was bound to be someone that their guild hadn’t accounted for.

He had watched the small man for a brief moment before continuing on his way. Bounding across the roofs of the buildings with the ease of long practice. As he landed, he continued to watch the small man with his abilities, his eyes focused on the path ahead. The man seemed to be new here. Simply following the crowd and exploring. That would explain why Siorraid wasn’t familiar with him. A traveller though. Not many of those.

Siorraid had relaxed, stretching his senses one last time, before pulling them inwards and forwards. As he had prepared for his next leap, the man had vanished.

Not Vanished. But vanished. Gone without a trace. Disappeared so completely that even Siorraid enhanced senses couldn’t discern his location. Even his teleportation sensing ability couldn't discern where the man had gone.

That had given him pause. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of people who could teleport without him being able to at least figure out where they had gone. Even fewer who could vanish so completely. To find someone new that could do so was...worrying. Especially if they weren’t affiliated with the guild.

He had crouched down immediately, scanning the crowds with shadow shrouded eyes.

Ever so slightly, the meager shadows of the city seemed to twitch.

Then from the corner of his eye he spotted the man again.

Again the man was following the flow of the crowd. Easily traversing among the dense streets with the ease of a street urchin, and yet, even though the man was small, he was definitely grown. Not strictly a street urchin, but not wealthy, or at least not from a wealthy background. Those types of skills were only found in a few select places, and the exalted halls of nobility were not one of them.

Siorraid watched the man. Committing to memory his bald pate, and dingy, travel worn mage robes, when once more the man vanished.

Must be some ridiculously powerful teleportation spell? Or maybe not. Considering my ability is triggering, it could simply not be a teleportation spell. Siorraid thought to himself, quickly enhancing his shroud before getting up and sprinting to the next vantage point to keep the man in sight.

An illusion, but I can feel his heartbeat. If it is an illusion I will eat my sock.

If Siorraid was to believe his senses, then the man was actually capable of disappearing and appearing at will. A terrifying ability, depending on its limitations. Or a master illusionist, with a penchant for overachieving.

Once more the man vanished, then reappeared at the edge of Siorraid’s perception. He raced over to the edge of the building and lept off, landing catlike on the other side of the street. He easily walked among the mushrooms without disturbing them before once more crouching down.

There's....two of them? Siorraid thought incredulously. Below him, the man walked through the crowd stepping away from an exact replica of himself. The second one, stepped into a bakery of all things, while the first continued its exploration.

Are they twins? Perhaps their power complements each other. Twice the problem either way.

Sioraid watched the man, extending his senses such that he could observe the second one who was looking at the cakes on display with much interest. He was with two companions. A young woman, and a child. The woman was exuding the power of an Empyrean. Interesting, but not particularly useful. At least not for the guild.

The group exited the shop with one of the inordinately expensive cakes and continued on their way. Eventually they made their way to one of the housing tunnels and disappeared inside.

Siorraid refrained from actually entering the tunnel after them. Not because he was worried that they would spot him, on the contrary, it seemed that none of the four had a perception ability. Well, the young woman had one, but it wasn’t nearly refined enough to pierce his shroud.

He stood at the entrance to the tunnel, silently contemplating what manner of creature had entered his city. The two men were new. Definitely not affiliated with the guild. Siorraid would have heard of a pair with such a unique ability.

The question was, why were they here. Perhaps one of the other guilds sent them. But that was strange. The last spy that had come to Sela had died five years ago. No others had dared to enter the White Lily’s center of operation.

Or maybe they are just travelers, come to try to make their fortune here as opposed to elsewhere. But that too made no sense. Any fortune that could be made in Sela had long since dried up. The oppressive crowds made sure of that. And someone with such a powerful ability wouldn’t just be travelling for the fun of it. Any organization worth their salt would snatch them up immediately.

Either way. Siorraid would need to report back to the guild leader. Such a pair could not be allowed to roam freely in Sela. Not unless they joined the White Lily.

Interesting, Siorraid smiled. It had been some time since something so completely unexpected had happened in Sela.

How exciting.

* * *

Ril awoke with Haukes butt in his face.

“Ahh!” Ril tumbled out of the narrow bed, and crashed onto the hard stone floor.

“Wha?!” Hauke shouted, as he jumped up, his eyes blearily scanning the room. In his haste, he also overbalanced, and fell from the other side of the bed, getting his own set of bruises from the hard floor. At least his side of the bed had a rug that protected him from the fall.

It was a thin rug.

“Ow, ow, ow.” Ril muttered, nursing his bruised elbow as he glared over the top of the bed. Hauke’s head poked up from the other side and gave him a confused look.

“What happened?” Hauke asked, instantly awake.

Ril gave the boy a measured stare. “Your butt was in my face.”

“What? No it wasn’t.”

“Yes it was, what evil plan were you concocting?” Ril said getting up and pointing an accusatory finger at Hauke.

“That doesn’t even make sense, my head was on the pillow, how could my butt be anywhere near your face.” Hauke said, pointing at the two pillows that were conspicuously sitting next to each other at the head of the bed.

Eren appeared at the doorway, with a cheerful smile on her face. “Good morning!” She said.

“Your brother has an evil plan to fart in my face.” Ril deadpanned.

“Hey! If I had an evil plan to fart in your face, you wouldn’t have found out about it. And if you did, then it's because it succeeded.” Hauke replied

“So you did fart in my face!” Ril shouted, jumping on the bed and pointing at the young boy.

Eren clapped twice, interrupting their argument. “Well, that is wonderful and all, but let’s eat breakfast, I need to leave soon.”

“Where are you going?” Hauke asked, following her to the living slash dining room where they pulled out some food and began to eat breakfast.

“I’m going to head out to the guard station and see if I can find some work. I had an old friend here, who might be able to get me in. It would help pay for this place. As small as it is, it is expensive. We won’t even be able to stay here for a month, with our current funds.”

“Huh,” Hauke said, before turning to his food and eating with relish.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you two could go out and see if you can find a school for Hauke.”

Hauke immediately looked up from his food and gave Eren a pleading look. “Can it be a battle school? Or maybe a school for adventurers?”

“I don’t think those exist.” Ril chipped in.

“Sure they do. The Academy in Anduin. Can we find something like that here?” Hauke begged.

“I don’t think such a place would accept someone so young, but even if they do there are important things that you should learn about in a regular school.” Eren said.

“Like what?” Hauke replied, stabbing a piece of dried meat with his fork.

“Math,” Eren said, when Hauke narrowed his eyes, she continued. “Economics, and our history. It’s important to know how we got here.”

Hauke mumbled something, to which Eren narrowed her eyes.

“You don’t want to end up like Mom and Dad do you?” she said, hands on her hips.

Hauke looked down, slightly red faced before grumpily returning to his meal.

* * *

In due course, the group finished their meal and left their small apartment. Eren disappeared into the crowds after a short conversation with one of the locals regarding the location of a nearby guard house.

Ril and Hauke were much less efficient. After entering the main cavern, they looked around for around thirty seconds before choosing a direction and starting to walk. They walked for a stressful half hour before Ril pulled Hauke to the side of the road.

“This is ridiculous.” He said, staring at the teeming throng of people that had somehow grown steadily denser over the last half hour. RIl had already felt someone try and steal his coin purse, but the sea of people had prevented him from actually catching the culprit.

“I concur.” Hauke said, his eyes tight.

Ril blinked. “You concur? What are you, a noble?”

“Yes, this is ridiculous.” Hauke blushed.

“There has got to be a better...ah that’s how they do it.” Ril said. Ril spotted a young girl, no more than twelve years old walking through the crowd and then disappear into the wall of one of the buildings that flanked the street.

“Do what?” Hauke said, his head bobbing back and forth between Ril and the street.

“Come on, let’s learn from the locals about the proper way of navigating this overpopulated hell hole.” Ril set into the crowd, dragging Hauke behind him, and stopped at where he had last seen the girl.

There was a small alcove recessed into the wall of the shop. The walls of the alcove were scratched up, as if someone had tried to drag in a large, sharp metal object through the too small opening. The alcove was small, barely able to accomodate a large child, but that was no problem for the two diminutive travelers.

Ril casually stepped inside and dragged Hauke behind him. It was dim within, the ever present shrooms less populous here than in the bustling streets. Despite the darkness, Ril had no trouble seeing the winding tunnel that opened up ahead of him. Darkvision made the tunnel appear as bright as day.

Several meters in, the young girl from before turned around to look at them. She was nervously wringing her hands together as she stared at the two newcomers. Ril empathised. It was never fun to be followed. But this was a good cause. Or well, for him it was.

He smiled wide, and gave an exuberant wave. “Hiyah.” he called into the tunnel.

The girl's eyes widened comically, before rushing forwards while desperately making a shushing motion.

Ril took a step back from the charging adolescent. He was about to open his mouth to warn her off, when she spoke up in a hushed whisper. “Shut up. You never speak in the Warren. Do you want to get us all killed?” When Ril was about to respond, she violently shook her head before gesturing back out to the street.

Ril raised an eyebrow, but decided to humor the girl. When they were safely out of the small tunnel he asked the obvious question. “Hello, what do you mean get us all killed?”

“Never talk in the Warren.” The girl stated reproachfully, “Even babies know that.”

“Ok, So we are new in town so it is understandable that we don’t know the rules.” Ril said, then gestured to the tunnel behind them. “So that tunnel is the Warren, or an entrance to it, I assume. Why shouldn’t we speak while in there?”

“Yea, that’s one of the entrances to the Warren.” Then the girl narrowed her eyes, "You don’t speak in the Warren because if you do you die.” Ril heard a duh at the end of that sentence even though the girl didn’t explicitly say it.

“Sure, sure. Makes perfect sense.” Ril deadpanned, “Mind telling us how you die?”

“Powder beasts, duh.” the girl said, this time including the duh.

“Powder beasts in the city?” Ril asked, surprised.

“Not in the city, in the Warren.” The girl replied, gesturing to the dark tunnel. Ril got the sense that she thought he was an idiot.

Ril pursed his lips. Despite the annoying girl, it was unlikely that she was actually lying to them. Still, powderbeasts under the city seemed a little strange. He would have thought that the city would get rid of them by now.

“Alright, no talking in the Warren. Any other rules? Should we also try to make as little noise as possible?” Ril asked.

The girl nodded. “No talking, no making noise. Don’t hit the walls, or drop anything. Use all your abilities to sneak as well as you can.” Then as if it was an afterthought, “And don’t go to far from the lived in tunnels.”

“Why not?” Ril asked.

“You’ll get lost.” The girl retorted angrily. Then seemed to deflate a little. “You’ll also need to sneak better in the deeper parts. If you don’t you can summon up a bunch of nasties up to the surface and kill a whole lota people. So don’t do it.”

“Makes sense. How do we know when we are entering a deeper part of the Warren?” Ril asked.

The girl started to say something before hesitating. She looked back into the tunnel with a torn look on her face. Clearly she had someplace to be. “How ‘bout you give me a thin, and I’ll teach you everything you need to know about the Warren.” She said eventually.

Ril nodded, and immediately tossed over one of the thin iron coins to the girl who caught it with deft fingers. A small price to pay for what Ril assumed was precious insider knowledge. It would be invaluable since he was planning on staying in Sela for the foreseeable future.

The girl looked at the coin suspiciously, before nodding, and tucking the coin away.

What followed was a lengthy tour through the undercity of Sela. It was conducted in complete silence while they were within the Warren itself, only speaking when they stepped out into the streets.

Sela consisted of a large main cavern and many small offshoots that led to different, more residential districts. The Warren was composed of a thousand tunnels that ran parallel to these main offshoots. Apparently the offshoots were once part of the Warren, but had been expanded and renovated to accommodate regular people.

The Warren extended far up into the cliff face, and deep underground. The girl, who was called Melanie, said that it went down forever, but Ril somehow doubted that. He did feel a thrill of excitement to try and delve deep into the tunnels and see what was lurking within.

Practically speaking, the Warren could be used to get from anywhere in Sela to anywhere. Ironically the main cavern, which Melanie called the Root, was the least connected to the Warren, many of the entrances having been blocked off over the years.

Navigating through the Warren was an exercise in claustrophobia. The tunnels were always tight, and rarely straight. They branched often, and meandered without any sense of direction or efficiency. The tunnels also commonly went vertical, making the traversal a rock climbing exercise. Despite this, Ril liked the Warren. It was mostly abandoned, with only the occasional street urchin passing by them. When such a thing happened everyone stayed quiet and just passed each other by. Melanie would greet them with a hand gesture that was mostly returned, but that was it. It was a far cry from the raucous crowds above.

Apparently the scratches on the entrance to the tunnel was a secret language that described where the entrance was, and how to get to the nearest exits. This scratch language was prevalent in the Warren, covering the walls at every intersection and guiding travelers away from the deep. After a couple of hours, and several more coins, Ril learned how to read the strange script, and even managed to get Melanie to teach him some of the hand gestures that she used to greet the other people. None were particularly interesting, mostly consisting variants of hello or what’s up.

He had always had a knack for such things, but it did seem that this time it came more easily than normal. Perhaps it was the simplicity of the language, or maybe Ril had been starved for an intellectual challenge as of late. Hauke had more trouble with the language, but in the end, had managed to memorize a small amount of useful symbols that would allow him to traverse the surface levels without much difficulty.

Hours passed, and they walked, climbed, and even at one point swum after Melanie as she taught them the primary routes. Lunch time came and they stepped out to take a break. It was during this break that Ril remembered the primary reason for their excursion.

“Oh yeah, Melanie. Do you happen to know of any schools around here?” Ril asked.