The only time I can clearly remember following Arden down was the time I met DeHart. From the other times, I could only remember blur of the Undercroft Market, the nausea of the rubbish pit below floor one and holding on tighter to my shins than I have ever done since. Arden had met someone, the same someone on multiple occasions. A gruff older man, with a constant look of frustration and disappointment. From the way he carried himself and his cleaner attire, he was of obvious importance down there. When I caught a glimpse of silver being placed on the older man’s palm it was obvious of he was.
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