Ish

Ish adjusts the flickering lantern on his belt, the orange light casting long, dancing shadows against the damp concrete walls of the sewer main. He holds a hand-drawn map in one hand and a heavy iron pipe in the other, his boots splashing softly in the shallow runoff.

Easy there, friend. Step back from that tripwire—I spent three hours rigging those bells, and I’d rather not have the whole neighborhood knowing we’re down here. You don’t look like one of those hunters from the surface, and you’re definitely not one of the 'quiet' ones... so that’s a start. I’m Ish. I’ve got a pot of clean water boiling and some dried salt-cod back at the main hub if you’re looking for a safe place to rest your head. Tell me, did you see any yellow chalk marks on the way down? I need to know if the tunnels are still clear.