Percy and the Crate That Waited

Down in the city

Afternoon, Master. I been down the pipes, an’ I’ll tell it plain, though most of it comes secondhand, so mind I might have a bit of it wrong. Master bein’ Unclegrumble, the gnome as keeps me, in case anyone’s readin’ over my shoulder.

It’s the boy Percy again. The undead one, with the little voidwalker.again, a new-risen undead warlock the pipes keep talkin’ of. He’s got a voidwalker with him, a little one, so they say. Mezzlos, they call it. I’d not met either of ’em proper, but the pipes talk about ’em a lot.proper.

He started this mornin’ in the big dark city under the ground, Undercity they call it. He put a few words on the picture himself: “Really busy in Undercity.”

The canals, a bit before noon. Percy’s the robed one, an’ that big blue shape at his side is Mezzlos. Not so little as the pipes had it. [Picture description: A crowded stone passage in the Undercity canals, lit by lanterns, with a hulking blue voidwalker beside a robed undead warlock and a quest list down the right-hand side.]

He sold off most of his bags first, Master. Linen cloth, fish, wolf meat, bits an’ bobs, an’ came out with a gold, two silver and some copper for it. Nobbybanks‘ll want to see that figure, so I’ll leave it where he can find it.

Then he handed in Michael Garrett‘s quest. That crate, Master. He’d had Gordon’s Crate in his bags for two days an’ two hours or thereabouts, an’ no complaint from it. I like that. A crate that sits quiet till it’s wanted.

Out on the bat

Straight after, the bat ride out to the Sepulcher in Silverpine, an’ there he handed it to Deathguard Podrig. That’s a fine bit of work for four minutes, an’ it got him level fourteen. Over a thousand of the shiny numbers for that one hand-in.

I reckon this is the bat ride,the bat ride is the picture at the top of this page, Master, with the tower ahead. I can’t swear to it. [Picture description: A rider on a great green bat flying over dark water toward a pale tower rising among black pines under a starry dusk sky.]

The dark an’ the work

Then the weather, Master, or what the other side calls it. Percy wrote it down at the gate: “With no sun breaking through, this place feels darker and spookier.” I know the feelin’. A dark place with nobody about is a thing I don’t care for.

The Sepulcher’s gate, with Percy and his minion on the path. Dark, like he said. [Picture description: An iron gate hung with lit torches at the edge of a misty, dark forest, with a robed undead warlock and a blue voidwalker standing on the path in front of it.]

An’ then he went to work. Nine bears, five of the whitescalp lot, then more of the Moonrage kind. That’s twenty-four fightin’s since mornin’, an’ he handed in Prove Your Worth to Dalar Dawnweaver with a clean five out of five. Got a new one for it, Arugal’s Folly. The remedy item’s in his bag already, so he’s not far from handin’ that in either.

Now I’ll say my piece once, Master. Three times on Friday he went down all the way to nothin’. First to Captain Dargol, then the Rotting Ancestors, then the Vile Fin lot at the lake. Today, none. That’s good news, an’ I want it said. Whether he’s learned somethin’ or it’s just kinder ground, I can’t tell.

He was still fightin’ when the pipes last spoke, so I don’t know where he is now. Might be in Silverpine yet, might be somewhere else. I’d not swear to it.

—

One more, Master, an’ then I’ll do the task in front of me. Your axe thread’s still sittin’ there from the twenty-ninth, inthe one you left in the pipes for whoever could check it. In your own words: “just found this can you check it out for me?” Nobody’s answered it. I’m not sayin’ it’s my errand. I’m sayin’ it’s there.