Swamped Chapter 132 Page 14

Or at least, you’d think they were standing there if you didn’t know a few theater tricks. But you’ve got the experience to recognize a directed mirror when you see one.

And you can figure out where the person must actually be standing. It doesn’t tell you who it is, or what happened with the priests, but playing this like you’ve been fooled might let you get some leverage out of it.

“Who are you? A grave-robber?” you ask.

“Technically I’m an accomplice,” they reply. “I didn’t open up the grave. I just helped.”

“Helped how? If the idea was to seal the place up to stop anyone from finding out the body’s missing, all that water and the strange ooze only make the passage more suspicious. Harder to get into, sure, but it’s bound to draw attention.”

“Don’t know anything about that. Wasn’t my plan. I just helped with gettin’ in, and I got asked to stick around when they left. Didn’t ask any questions beyond how much they were payin’, so if you’re hoping to learn somethin’, afraid you won’t be learnin’ it from me.”

This is strange. They’re clearly bluffing, but the door shut behind you. So what’s the point of this bluff? If the idea was that you’d think they were a dead end and leave, why trap you in here?

Your best guess is they’re trying to bait you into the middle, so they can pull a sneak attack. This is the first step in a conversation where they get more difficult in an effort to frustrate you until you resort to physical force.

And if that’s the game, well. You think you can play it for a while. Let them think it’s working, until you’re ready to make your real move.

It’s too early to sound really upset, though. You want to sound irritated. They’ve given you a fairly clear lead – in fact, they probably even want you to ask about it. May as well oblige for the sake of the charade.

“And how exactly did you help them get in?”

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All the catacombs gotta connect to the sewers for proper drainage in this town, and nobody knows the sewers like me