Alice stepped back, “isn’t this what you asked for?” The hooded figure let out a hacking cough. “Nevermind that, WHERE did you find this?” Alice paused for a second before replying “I followed the map to a T, it was the 10th brick under the atten, I didn’t look inside I swear!” The hooded figure shoved it back into her arms “return this at ONCE, tell no one where you went or what you found. Do not look inside if you value your life” Alice turned and left the pub as fast as her emaciated legs would let her.

Alice hated working for that man. He smelled of sulfer and had a voice as sharp as a million needles, yet he was her highest paying customer. It wasn’t odd for her clients to go out of their way to hide their identity, even so there was something so off with that man. She’s tried to peak glances under that hood, every time she is met with an endless abyss.She traced back the steps she took this morning, looking behind her before lifting the sewer drain and dropping quietly inside. Alice was used to the dirt and grime of the sewers, the catacombs offered the highest profit and the most efficient way to reach them was through their sewer system, few knew how interconnected the two really were. Her train of thought was derailed by the clinking in the bag causing her to think. She knew he said not to look but what if this was valuable enough to get her out of her families debt, just because he was too afraid to sell it doesn’t mean she was.

Alice is not your average sewer rat, generations ago her family was a favorite of the emperor living a lavish lifstyles with multiple château’s, balls on the weekends, and it was rumored even fine, imported wines. After years of being on top one of her ancestors had a faux pas so horrible surmounting in a debt so massive that even she doesn’t believe it will be cleared in her lifetime. Maybe if her parents didn’t pass mby she would know what caused it. Her family before her regularly used the catacombs to “collect” antique artifacts from the deceased dating back to over a millennium. They would sell them on the black market, even building a reputation as being the best source for antiques, hitting the deepest recorded levels of the catacombs where they died in a collapse. The 13th level was rumored to be the resting place of ancient kings from other continents and known to be dangerous. After their death, the business died with them and Alice was left alone to face the brunt of the bill. She was born in those catacombs and would probably die in them too.

As she continued on she got a annoyed feeling before she remembered how complicated of a walk it was. The clanking of the metal in the bag would not get out of her head. She pulled up the map just to give her something to think about. That was another thing strange about the hooded man he was the only one who knew where stuff was that he wanted in the catacombs. It wasn’t odd to find others in the underground but most of them resided away from the catacombs, and stayed away from her regardless. A lot of the gangs that run around her pay her for her services, albeit very low because they included the “protection” as part of payment. Every catacomb is dated and if you have access to one of the date logs you could figure out who was buried where with a small margin of error if you were smart enough. No that wasn’t the weird thing, the weird thing was that he wouldn’t let her look at a single thing she brought back, and if he was so particular why wouldn’t he just get it himself. She looked down at the black bag tied to her hip. This is the first one he had her take back, she had to know.