Spirit Wars Saga: Echo Mage

Chapter 12

Almost immediately after taking a few steps down into the darkness of the sewer, Rygic shot back up the ladder with a horrified expression etched upon his face. He leaned over and dry heaved a few moments before being able to collect himself. "It smells MUCH worse down there than I expected!" he managed to utter between gasps, his features still contorted with revulsion.

The rest of the group instinctively took a collective step back. Even from where they stood, they were beginning to catch faint hints of the putrid odor emanating from the depths of the sewer. Nearby, curious onlookers wrinkled their noses at the foul stench, casting sympathetic glances toward the group before hastening their steps to distance themselves from the area.

"Wait, I think I have just the thing!" exclaimed Quart. He began fishing around in one of the larger pouches he wore on his belt. He paused ever so slightly when a pink-colored potion came into view before quickly continuing to rummage. Rygic's lips curled into a knowing smirk as he caught sight of the familiar potion. It was the one Quart had fervently described during their visit to the local alchemy shop, The Crucible. After a few more moments of searching, Quart triumphantly retrieved a small, ornate jar filled with a creamy eggshell-colored ointment. Holding it delicately, he slowly unscrewed the lid and cautiously brought it close to his nose, somewhat hesitant to breathe it in. His abrupt withdrawal and sudden head movement indicated the strength of its scent. With a quick exhale and a few big blinks of his eyes, he muttered, "Yep, this should do." He carefully scooped a tiny amount of the cream, applying it meticulously above his upper lip.

The group couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Quart's expression, resembling someone who had just downed a tall glass of milk. Quart passed the jar of cream to Trella, motioning for her to follow suit.

"What exactly is this stuff?" asked Trella as she gently took the jar in her hands. She examined it with a mix of curiosity and caution, tilting the smooth glass container slightly to catch the light.

"The alchemist that runs The Crucible called it 'Dewaft.' He claims it's popular among the students, especially the first years. Says it'll help cover up most smells," answered Quart.

Following Quart's lead, Trella dabbed a small amount above her upper lip. Her eyes widened and a brief cough escaped her lips as the Dewaft cream assaulted her sense of smell. A few moments later, she smiled, evidently pleased with its effects. "Seems to be working well, though it's a little strong at first," commented Trella.

Seeing how effective Dewaft was for Trella, the rest of the group quickly applied it. Rygic approached the opening leading down and cautiously took a few tentative sniffs. Satisfied that the cream was working its magic, he mustered his courage and began his descent into the dark depths. With each step, Rygic felt a growing sense of relief washing over him, thanks to the remarkable effects of the Dewaft cream. Finally, a triumphant grin flashed across his face, as it seemed to be a complete success at keeping the heinous odors at bay. "It's okay, you can come down now," Rygic called out to the rest of the group, their hesitant figures silhouetted against the faint light above. As they joined him one by one, he began to scan his surroundings, the dark areas appearing as various shades of grey thanks to his elven night vision. Hundreds of spiders clung to their intricate webs, their tiny eyes reflecting what little light came from the surface. The group's quarry, the elusive sewer rats, scurried away from the light, retreating further into the thick gloom.

The rest of the group slowly made their way down and stood next to Rygic. The last to come down was Quart. The moment he stepped off the ladder, a string of silent curses escaped his lips as he saw the sewer's stagnant water was up to his knees. Rygic and Dreck offered to carry Quart, but their assistance was met with vehement refusal with a sidelong glance towards Trella. Quart was too prideful to be carried in front of her.