I move the lid of the second barrel more carefully, sliding it rather than knocking it off. This one is empty but for some decayed matter at its base. I wonder if it once contained food which has since been eaten by rodents, and as I do so, a vision of the swarm of rats from the ship comes back to me, followed by my terrified fight with them in the ship’s hold. I shudder, and return to the steps.
We continue up to the third level. We must be more than halfway up the whole tower now, even counting just the levels that are above the wall itself. The adjoining chamber is again mostly featureless, but there is a desk there with drawers and a chair, and the oak from which they are made has remained dry and appears sound. I walk towards it and run my hand over the dusty chair back. The chair has a cushion which has now corroded away, but the structure is otherwise fine. I wonder if a guard captain was once stationed here, in charge of the tower. Or, at least, if that’s what it was intended for.
Lugg is eyeing the drawers speculatively, and I say to him, “Go ahead, take a look. There may be some valuables.” Stepping closer, he reaches out towards the first drawer, like me using one of his knives to open it rather than doing so with his hands.
And it’s just as well he does.
The drawer is trapped; its mechanism springs up as soon as it slides around three inches open, and a metal spike springs round a mere fraction of an inch away from Lugg’s hand and then shoots upwards, embedding itself into the paneled ceiling.
“Are you okay?” I say to him, silently cursing myself for allowing him to take that risk so soon after his injury at the city gates.
“Lugg is not hurt,” he replies, stepping back and rubbing at his hand all the same.
I come closer to the desk, holding the lantern up, and then pass it back to him. “Can you hold this near the drawer for me, please? I want to see what kind of mechanism it used.”
Within moments I have disassembled the trap mechanism. It’s relatively safe now, having already sprung, and the components can be re-used at some point. I add them to my backpack, and gain the following boost:
Increase in skill level: Dismantling level 21 (Dexterity +4; skill transfer from Crafting)
Nice. That’s the second time my high crafting skill has usefully bumped up a related skill.
I also find a tailored linen cloth of the kind that might be used to polish armor, and a small ruby which I place in my money pouch. My inventory now looks as follows:
Backpack: bedroll, broken spring trap, copper wire (10 yards), daily trail rations (5), empty glass bottle, empty glass vials (2), flask of oil (half used), iron pot, healing potion, light blankets (2), linen cloth, quiver with arrows (8), set of high-quality crafting tools, set of spare light clothes (dirty), signet ring, silver scissors, waterskins (2). Other items: belt, belt (enchanted), cloak, dagger, fine morning star, jeweled knife, lantern, money pouch, poor-quality bow, waterskin.
My pack is getting rather heavy, and I briefly toy with leaving the tinderbox behind, but it wouldn’t make all that much difference.
The drawer also contains a bundle of papers, all very much yellowed with age. Most look kind of irrelevant to me – lists of troops and the like – but I do find an interesting plan of Katresburg which includes considerable detail of the city wall, and decide to take it with me in case it proves useful in preparing the defenses in the days to come.
I open the second drawer much more cautiously; Lugg holds the lantern close without needing to be prompted. This one is likewise trapped, but I am ready for it, and am able to hold the trigger down with my knife while disarming the missile-bolt using my crafting tools. I remove it: a small dart which may at one point have been poisoned. The other one was probably similar, but is now embedded in the ceiling and I cannot reach it. However, I have now added to my inventory both mechanisms, and one of the darts.
Inside the second drawer is a small wooden box with coins inside it.
“Let’s split this,” I say to Lugg, opening the box cautiously, and then emptying it across the main surface of the desk. There are around fifty coins, a mix of gold and silver. Most are old Dathmiri coins, but they should all still be valid currency in the Empire. It’s nice to get some loot for a change, rather than always spending money.
I also turn the box over in my hands; something is rattling, and I feel that there may be yet more secrets to uncover. For now, though, I put it into my pack, and then take the lantern back from Lugg.
The next level up is lighter, and it’s easy to see why – there’s a very large slit-shaped opening at the front of the tower. Although boarded up, it is still letting a lot of light in around the cracks and one quite weathered corner of the board has come away completely.
And the reason for the opening is also clearly visible. There is a large ballista, and the giant-sized crossbow dominates the room. Perfect. Just what I was hoping for.
Chapter 42: Silver
I step over to the boarded opening; it appears that the mighty siege weapon would be able to fire almost parallel with the wall on either side, and at any angle in between, too. It sits upon a rail, and would have been able to move forward and back, and tipped higher or lower by the user.
I also peek through the damaged area of board, and sure enough, the lake south of the city and the swamp itself can both be seen from here. If the whole thing was gone, I could see the area where the Imperial forces are camped, I’m sure of it.
I turn to look back at the ballista. “That’s a beautiful piece of craftsmanship,” I say, gazing at it.
I can also see that it’s not in great condition, sure. But I have a crafter’s intuition that as with the desk, the basic structure is sound. It can fire. If I can get this working, this close to where the Imperial forces are camped, it could turn the tide of this conflict…
I crouch down, looking underneath the great machine. “The winch and rope are still in working order,” I mutter, half to myself, “and the main oak beams. But it won’t work without the two torsion rods near the front, and they look badly rusted to me. They must have been exposed to rain from that boarded window. I’ll need to get them replaced if the thing is ever going to fire. We don’t want them snapping and springing back at whoever is in the room.”
“Daria knows about such things,” Lugg replies.
“I’m going to need a bit of time to work on this machine, my friend,” I say, standing and pulling out the linen cloth that I found in the desk, and beginning to rub off some of the dust. “Perhaps you want to…”
But I don’t say anything more, for that moment there’s a clicking noise from the back of the room, immediately followed by a furious screech. I duck down into a defensive pose, raising the lantern and with my other hand reaching for the morning star at my belt. At the other end of the chamber I see a small ghoul-like figure clambering around the back wall like some kind of humanoid spider. It hisses and then screeches again.
“Back to the stairs, quick!” I say to Lugg, keeping my voice steady. He has already pulled out his daggers, and is standing just in front of me. But before either of us have time to move forward, the creature leaps, landing at Lugg’s feet and then rearing up. He pulls back, dodging a raking claw attack at his face, and stabbing out into its shoulder with one of his daggers. At the same moment, I bring my morning star crashing down onto the ghoul’s back. It is a thumping blow, and the creature is pushed away and falls, rolls, then stands and comes back towards me.
But I don’t see any sign of an injury on either its chest or shoulder. Whatever this creature is, I am pretty sure it’s not natural… and now that I get a moment to look at it properly, its eyes look dead, and have a dull green glow to them.
Haunted was the word that Saul used. And nothing could survive in here for two decades unless…it was already dead?
My heart is thumping as I recall the poisonous blows inflicted by the raised skeletons in the King’s Graveyard back on Vel. Not only did they wound me, but the poison kept draining my hit points minute by minute
thereafter, and only the intervention of P’oytox with his healing magic was able to stop that. I really need to avoid that happening again.
I back away, rounding the ballista, keeping the great siege weapon in between myself and the beast. Lugg has slunk off towards the top of the stairs, but has remained there, apparently unwilling to leave me. “Go on, Lugg,” I say. “I need you to go and get help.” With a grunt, he turns, and I hear his footsteps descending rapidly.
The ghoul lashes out at me just as it did at Lugg, its necrotic claws coming close to my face. I duck, but it follows up with a raking blow to my chest. Fortunately my leather jerkin takes the worst of it, and I feel bruised rather than seriously wounded.
- 3 hit points (24 remain)
The morning star is too unwieldy to be effective inside this small chamber, and I also don’t want to risk damaging the ballista. I clip it back to my belt. There isn’t much space for bow fire, either, and so I switch to my dagger. I am still retreating around the ballista; the creature is foul and obviously dangerous, but at least it’s not very fast.
It is, however, able to climb walls; as I circle back as far as the boarded-up window again, it begins to clamber up the side wall and then onto the ceiling, perhaps planning to leap down onto me from above.
I have my dagger clutched in my hand, but all the time I am thinking – why didn’t Lugg’s stab wound harm the thing? I know that certain species of monster are immune to particular attacks. I try to think about this creature’s vulnerabilities, hoping that information will pop up in the in-game database, but no such luck.
I guess Daria doesn’t have that sort of background knowledge.
I fling my dagger and the blow strikes home, the blade sticking into the creature’s arm for a moment and then falling free. It hisses and clicks again, and this time, with the light behind me, I can clearly see the wound close up and knit back together.
I am almost sure that I am not harming it.
I mentally think through the options I have, unslinging my backpack from my shoulders as I hurriedly retreat again. The ghoul is approaching spider-like across the ceiling towards me, and soon will be directly above me. I pull out the dart that I obtained from the trap down below. Could this be the secret, an object that is available to a quester if they figure out what to do in time?
I throw it, and again strike the undead beast, but again the weapon falls to the ground, seemingly without having done any harm.
If it was once laced with a poison that would kill the creature, then perhaps it is now too dried up to be effective.
Not wanting to risk looking down at my pack for any length of time, I bring up my inventory once more:
Backpack: bedroll, broken spring traps (2), copper wire (10 yards), daily trail rations (5), empty glass bottle, empty glass vials (2), flask of oil (half used), iron pot, healing potion, light blankets (2), linen cloth, map (Katresburg), quiver with arrows (8), set of high-quality crafting tools, set of spare light clothes (dirty), signet ring, silver scissors, waterskins (2), wooden box. Other items: belt, belt (enchanted), cloak, fine morning star, jeweled knife, lantern, money pouch, poor-quality bow, waterskin.
Is it possible that the jeweled knife taken from the horse of Skizol, the slain lieutenant of the Knights of Dawn, might be more effective than my own daggers? It does have some kind of magical properties, I believe, though that does not make the matter certain. Besides, the thing is only a knife, and a small one at that. I pull it out all the same, noticing the fine silver pattern around the jewels on the handle.
And then I think: silver. It famously works on werewolves, but perhaps on undead, too? Archers can gain or purchase valuable silvered arrows within Shadow Kingdoms, and I even owned some in my previous incarnation in the game.
And I have a pair of silver scissors, gifted to me by the little girl Shamila at the farm… if only I can find some way to use them as a weapon.
I pull them out, clutching them in my good hand, and dropping my backpack. The silver blades stick out between my fingers when I clutch them; an improvised weapon at best, and there is no way I could hit the thing like this without getting struck back, perhaps to deadly effect.
But I have to try something.
As I was half expecting, the creature launches itself from the ceiling towards me, but I am ready for it, dodging to one side and then dashing to the opposite end of the room again. It screeches in frustration. I begin to descend towards the stairs, but it scuttles across the floor to cut me off, and I am back at the boarded slit-window once again.
I would really like to know whether either the special knife or the silvered weapon will harm it. But for now, I have little choice but to try my luck, even though either option would bring me much too close to the undead creature for my own safety.
Then my gaze drops to the tiny dart again, now lying on the floor, and flicks back to the scissors. If the things could be crafted into a thrown weapon…
I tuck the jeweled knife back into its sheath and dodge around to one side of the room, picking up the dart in mid-stride, and then scuttling back over to where my backpack now sits.
From my backpack, I fetch out the spool of wire which I purchased in Nimroth and get to work. The creature has returned to the ceiling and is stalking me once again. But with the tiny scissors and the dart in my hands, my hands work rapidly and almost automatically, drawing on my character’s implicit in-game skill. In moments, I have split the scissors into two parts, with both its spiked ends appended to the dart’s point. In doing so, I gain an unexpected crafting and dexterity bonus. If I survive this, I can look back on the encounter as a nice and well-earned boost to my stats:
Increase in attribute level: Dexterity level 18 (+1) Increase in skill level: Crafting level 35 (Dexterity +17)
If silver hurts the creature, then this dart will now do so as well. I throw. And there is a pained scream, fading to a wail as the ghoul clutches at its chest, just below its neck.
Increase in weapon skill level: Improvised thrown weapon level 19 (Dexterity +1)
Again, the dart falls to the ground. But the creature is smart enough to try to keep me away from reaching it for another shot. It scuttles across a yard or two and then drops to the ground where the dart has landed, ready to guard the weapon.
But I am ready for its move; I already have the morning star in my hand. Swirling it around my head, I aim a careful strike at the beast’s chest. I hit, and it is flung backwards towards the stairs. It stumbles, flailing and losing its footing for a moment, and then begins to move towards me again. I know it won’t be permanently wounded, but it is now out of the way of my silver weapon.
Increase in weapon skill level: Mace and Chain level 25 (Strength +7)
I pick up and throw the dart again, missing by some distance this time, but retrieving it more easily afterwards. My next attempt strikes home, leading to a further wail and a series of clicks from the ghoul. I am confident that it is almost finished. The dart has lodged in the creature’s body, now, low down on its back, and its presence there may be continuing to drain its hit points. If so, perhaps I just need to wait.
At that moment, I hear a voice from below. Garner. “We are here, Daria,” he shouts. “Just hold on!”
“No, wait!” I shout out, approaching the writhing ghoul at the top of the stair with my morning star raised. As I do so, I see a longbow arrow thunk into its side, close to where the dart is embedded, and it twists, looking down the stair behind it.
And then it leaps downwards, its claw-like fingers raised like a cat pouncing on its prey.
Chapter 43: To the Coven
I put one arm around Garner’s waist as Lugg and I help our injured friend down the steps and out onto the city wall.
As I had anticipated, the creature did not survive for much longer with my improvised silver dart embedded in its chest. It continued to writhe and thrash in the stair before going still, its animated form giving way to what was little more than the desiccated husk of a long
-forgotten human or elf. But before it did so, it managed to inflict two raking scratches on Garner’s face.
We spent a bit of time treating our friend within the tower, but it soon became clear that we would need more expert help to deal with his wounds. Each is now a purplish color, and they are weeping in a concerning way.
The big ranger is still on his feet as we slowly leave the tower, one arm across Lugg’s shoulders, and he holds his other hand up to his wounded face as he goes. “It hurts,” he mutters.
“Thank you so much for coming to my aid, Garner,” I say, shaking my head slightly, “but the timing was cruel, for the creature was already close to death.”
“May the goddess Pertura take pity on me.”
Garner hasn’t spoken much of his religious views before, and to take his mind off the pain, I ask him about Pertura while we escort him down the city walls steps to the mustering area, and begin to take him over towards the stadium, where Lugg had his wounds seen to.
“Mati raised me to respect all the gods,” he says, “for of course, all of them worked together to create the world and to infuse it with the magic that allows witches to do their good work. That is the way of things.
“But since I started to work mostly on the land, training the young folk in the crafts of the forest and the outdoors, I came to feel an affinity with Pertura. Most of the others of my profession revere her, for she is the goddess of the forest as well as of hunters and of the natural world. Though a few prefer to worship the great goddess Tara, who is sometimes called the mother of life itself.”
The Call of the Coven: A LitRPG novel (Shadow Kingdoms Book 2) Page 29