Chapter 54: Ch. 53 – Dogubis, The Eternal Cagehound

She had done it. Her heart beating in her chest, she could feel the cool metal underneath her hands. The muffled cheers of the Con Artists suggested that she was still alive, and not a splatter of limbs on the floor of the hall.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she yelped as Dusk’s skeletal face looked back at her.

“Oh god, put on some clothes,” Momo stuttered. “[Disguise].”

A pelt of black fur fell on the cat, and Momo breathed easier. Even if the feline spent most of its time invisible, it still unnerved her to see it in its natural, undead form.

“Get behind me,” Momo said, pressing her face down so Dusk could climb over her back. She didn’t want the cat to accidentally claw open the vent and reveal Momo’s pretty little face to a sea of enemies.

With Dusk in tow, Momo army crawled through the air vent. The air vents were dark and tight, but [Cheese Vision] allowed Momo to see as if it was lit by daylight. She found the vents quite cozy – like a long, metal bed. High above trouble, completely isolated from everything.

The urge to nap came at her like a racing truck.

“Right… government… overthrowing,” she muttered, willing her eyes back open. She imagined Valerica swimming in a pool of the gold she was going to bring back, and the vision filled her with renewed motivation. She was doing this for the Dawn.

As she crawled further, she began to hear distinct voices. Many, many voices, all coming from below. They were speaking loudly, trading yells and pleas. A few rays of light began to eke into the vent through a slotted grate, and Momo crept towards it.

As she peered through the grate, her eyes widened. Oh, wow. The entire Banquet Hall sat beneath her. It was a beautiful, ornate room, as wide as a soccer field. Romanesque columns stood all around, culminating in a large, marble platform at the end of the room. On the platform stood Vivienne, presiding over everything, just as Nia had suggested.

Except, in place of dining tables, the room was littered with cages. Cages stuffed to the brink with criminals. Hundreds and hundreds of criminals. Momo began to wonder if the Judgement her fellow prisoners received the day her and Radu were incarcerated was not execution, but instead to be sent here, caged and awaiting exchange.

Momo squinted, looking for who they might be exchanged for. All the cages looked the same, and the prisoners weren’t particularly exceptional. Momo spotted a furry figure in the corner, most likely Lord Gunther, accompanied by one or two knights.

As Momo watched, a lanky figure emerged from the darkness behind Vivienne. Who was that? There was only supposed to be one person on the platform, and it was her. The figure wielded a giant half-moon shaped axe, which stood above him like a looming guillotine.

Maybe it was her executioner?

She seemed to carry him around like a loyal dog. Momo counted her blessings that he hadn’t accompanied her during the accident at the Mage Tower.

Momo inhaled sharply. This was still doable. Even if she led both of them out of the room, it’d still be two versus all of the Con Artists. Nia’s original plan had her and Momo facing them personally, so these had to be reasonable odds.

From her current position, the vents split off into two directions: one towards Vivienne’s platform, and the other towards Lord Gunter and the knights. She began in the direction of Vivienne, once again losing sight of the floor below. The vent began to slope subtly downwards, and she could begin to make out the yells beneath.

“We’re not animals. You can’t just trade us like livestock.”

“Yeah, you can’t make us leave these cages!”

“Did you forget how I got you in the cages?” a familiar voice jeered. Septim. It was that dimwitted knight from before. Momo couldn’t imagine why he’d been chosen to be here, but then again, none of the knights seemed particularly good at their jobs. They were a bunch of high performance alcoholics, much like the Con Artists, but with swords, instead of daggers and mental manipulation.

“We’ll find a way to get these mana-depleters off,” a criminal bit back. “And when we do, it’ll be scrambled eggs with all of you!”

Momo giggled, imagining Septim being flipped on a pan, oil biting at his heels. Her stomach started to gurgle as the vision filled with actual breakfast ingredients – ham, bacon, eggs, sausages, egg rice…

God, she was so hungry. If only she could just close her eyes for a little bit, and imagine being surrounded by a free hotel breakfast buffet…

Stay on track. She blinked. If she completed this mission, she'd have enough gold for a hundred hotel breakfast buffets.

She continued her crawl, her elbows starting to bleed as they rubbed against the metal. She’d need to majorly overhaul her skincare routine once this was all done. Climbing that wall, plus this – it was like the most intense exfoliation scrub of her life. She’d need to sit in a vat of moisturizer for a week to recover.

“Oh gods, what is that?” a voice below shrieked. A breath later, the entire room was shaking. Even the vent wobbled up and down, as if a giant had stepped on the castle.

“What in Gods’ names are we being traded for?”

Something large shifted again, and the room rumbled. The vent made a yawning sound, trembling beneath her.

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“It’s going to eat us, Gods, we’re going to die!”

“Stay calm, you idiots, it’s only a vehicle!”

Despite her stinging elbows, Momo hustled to the next grate. She desperately needed to see what was going on below. The vents were shaking terribly.

“Awwhooo!”

What sounded like a dog howling into a megaphone echoed throughout the chamber. Dusk hissed at it hysterically. What in the fresh hell was that? Momo scrambled up to the grate, pulse vibrating as she got a glimpse of the monstrosity below.

It was a dog, sort of, except that it was the size of a bus. It had the markings of a Doberman Pinscher, with tall, upright ears, and a pointed face. The most astonishing feature was what grew out of its back: a prison cage, much like the ones that littered the floor. Except this prison was not made out of metal, but flesh. It was an outgrowth as natural as ears or a tail.

Inside of the dog-cage was a cloaked figure, covered in locks and chains. The figure sat on the ground, cross-legged, unmoving. Momo couldn’t discern a single thing about it besides that it looked vaguely human. Still, a shiver ran down her back at the sight of it. This had to be the one they were trading the criminals for.

Momo followed the leash of the dog down to the floor, where another new individual stood. The dog’s keeper was a bird-halfling, a raven-headed man. He was draped in black robes, the insignia of the King embossed into the breast pocket.

Momo’s fingers began to sweat as they gripped the slots of the grate. This was no ordinary prisoner transfer.

If the goat was onto something…

Lord Gunther went up to greet the keeper, shaking his free hand. They seemed to be well-acquainted. Momo pressed her ear to the grate, picking up the faint echoes of their voice as they spoke.

“Good to see you, Pol,” Gunther said. “Your beak is looking freshly shined.”

“Your maw is as brown as always,” Pol returned, completely monotone.

“The prisoners aren’t used to seeing such a magnificent showing of the King’s power,” Gunther said, gesturing to the hound. “Dogubis looks sharp as always. The cagehound groomer has kept him in proper shape.”

“I take him every Wednesday.”

“It shows,” Gunther nodded. Then his facial expression seemed to darken. “So she’s really in there?”

“Docked in hundreds of mana-depleting chains, yes,” Pol said. “Not to mention the hundreds of debuffs that have been cast on her, and the natural mana-depleting aspect of Dogubis’ cage.”

“Fantastic. This should be an easy swap then.”

“It should be, yes,” Pol nodded. “I see you have brought the requested criminals. The King will be pleased. His son requires dummies for training, and there is no better way to farm for [Holy] experience than felling a hundred criminals.”

Momo’s mouth went dry.

The criminals weren’t being used as servants or teachers. They were… experience fodder for the King’s son?

Momo had to admit, she was slightly jealous. She wished Valerica would line up people for her to rob instead of her having to go out and do it herself. How convenient would it be if she could just wake up in the morning, come in for lunch at the Dawn, and then pick a few pre-selected pockets? What a dream.

Momo quickly remembered herself. Right. She was supposed to be interrupting this. In retrospect, this was a terrible day for them to overthrow the government. They could have much more easily caught Vivienne in her office on a day where there wasn’t a huge prisoner transfer.

But whatever. Momo wasn’t exactly going to crawl out the other way now. The Con Artists would probably just throw her back in until she finished the job. All she had to do was drop out of the vent, grab Vivienne’s attention, and run for her life.

Momo looked again towards the high platform, and her stomach dropped.

There was only one problem.

Vivienne was gone.

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