The Sewer

The smell was unbearable. Ankle deep in filth, he trudged through the pipe. His body burned form the beatings. The pitch dark engulfed him, like in his cell. The muck bubbling and rushing underfoot drowned out all sound. Unconsciously, his hand touched his sword’s hilt. The girl who freed him brought sewer plans, some rough clothes, and his sword. He had to repay her somehow. They were to meet at an inn in the foreign quarter. He worked through the pipes guided by moments of referencing the plans. He hoped those plans were not altered when these sewers were built.