The Great Hunt

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View from my balcony on a rare clear day

Someone, we don’t really know who, exactly, decided it was time to finally do something about the monster infesting the sewers, and organized a hunt to track down and eliminate the beastie before it started to eat more than the occasional urchin and perhaps even jeopardize the tourist trade. With the Oiling Festival, a major source of tourist revenue, already in jeopardy because no one seems to know exactly when the festival is this year, together with the rather awkward moment caused by having to return the remains of the sole tourist who came to last year’s festival after he fell down a coal chute and was partly eaten by voles to the family, well, it was decided we needed to be proactive.

Alas, it did not go well.

Just finding the bloody thing was troublesome. It seems the sewer system is more maze-like than we’d thought. We also discovered that over the years various persons have been burrowing away like moles down there, digging passages off the sewers, building chambers for smuggling operations and to hide their less savory addictions from the sight of more normal citizens. Even sending urchins down the tunnels in the hopes of luring the beastie out into the open were unsuccessful.

Finally a large group of us, including myself, were the ones who were ambushed by the beastie. After a fierce and rather confusing battle in which your author was killed at least twice and set on fire once, the creature retreated down the tunnels and we gave chase. In the confusion and chaos the creature escaped, apparently vanishing into a brick wall somehow, leaving us dazed, confused, irritated, and in desperate need of a bath and large quantities of alcoholic beverages.

 

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