Dungeon Runner

Bottom Rung, Chapter 02

Tibs ran out of breath. Even running as fast as he could he hadn't caught up to other runners, passing only those not in a hurry. Slowing to a walk, following the path of now trampled grass, he could take a better look at the tents being put up. They were large, hastily put up, and far from the stone platform where he'd arrived.

A series of signs caught his attention, a sword, a bow, a hand with sparks around it, and a hand reaching into a pouch. Each had an arrow indicating further along the trampled path that wound between the platform and the tents. He peered into one tent in passing, rows and rows of cots; in another, the first thing he caught was the scent of food, then noticed the tables and the cooks at the back. His stomach growled, but he didn't enter. He didn't want to risk another of the adventurer guarding them finding him where he had no business being.

He passed tents with displays setup and slowed, looking at what they showed. Armor, weapons, ropes, bandages. Adventuring equipment, Tibs realized. He looked around for anyone watching him. It wasn't like anyone would miss any of it, was it?

"You?" a woman in armor called to him. Their eyes met. "What are you doing?" she wore armor like the ice adventurer and a sword at her belt. Her eyes were a deep green, and she didn't look happy.

Tibs forgot about the bandages as she took a step in his direction and he ran. He only stopped on the other side of the tents encampment, with more symbols drawn on planks and hurriedly looked around for the guard. He'd expected her to be right behind him, but he only saw more of the people like him going to the left and right of the signs.

They were the same sword, bow, hand with sparkles, and hand with fingers into a pouch. This time the arrows for the sword and bow pointed to his left, while the one with the sparks and pouch pointed to his right.

"If you don't know where to go," the woman said, and Tibs nearly ran away in fright as her hand landed on his shoulder. "Go with the fighters." Her green eyes looked him over. "How old are you?"

Tibs shrugged, trying to pull away.

"Are you sure you're with this bunch and you aren't one of the worker's kid?"

Tibs pulled harder, but she didn't even seem to notice his effort. She let go, and he staggered. He glared at her and she chuckled.

"Fighters are that way." She indicated to the left.

"I'm going that way." He pointed to the right.

"Suit yourself. Watch where you put those fingers, kid. It would be a shame for you to lose them so early in your life." She turned and walked away.

He walked by a man in red and gold robes who eyed him suspiciously, standing next to the sign with the hand and sparkles. A woman only a little older than Tibs, he thought, stepped to him and he had her hold a crystal, before nodding and directing her to the groups beyond. The man leveled his suspicious gaze back on Tibs as he tried to figure out what they were doing, and when sparks appeared on the tip of the man's fingers, Tibs moved on.

The man standing next to the sign with the hand and the pouch was a few years older than Tibs, and a thief, he had no doubt of it. The way those stone gray eyes looked at anyone walking by, the too-casual way his hands were folded together. He was successful, by the quality of his clothing, but Tibs was sure he'd still pick his pockets if there was anything in them.

"Move on, kid, go back to your parents," he said, sounding bored.

"I'm one of them," Tibs replied defiantly, indicating the people beyond that man. Where did he get off calling him a kid? Couldn't he tell he was a thief too? Maybe he should dip his fingers in those pockets and keep whatever he pulled out to show him.