by Brian Simons
>> You’ve been hit! 320 Damage.
“It’s armored.” Daniel groaned from the pain in his back.
“I can’t get a song out,” Sybil said. “It attacks too fast, it’ll just interrupt me.”
The monster began padding at the ground again, preparing to charge.
“We could run,” Daniel said, grinding the tip of his blade into the rock-lizard’s neck looking for a chink in its armor and finding none.
“Not fast enough,” Sybil said.
“If we split up,” Daniel said, “it would only get one of us.”
“At a time,” Sybil said.
The monster charged again as Daniel dived into the way, trying to interpose himself between Sybil and the rockmander. The mob had other ideas. It scurried up the wall to evade Daniel and ran over Sybil, trampling her and leaving her lying badly injured on the tunnel floor.
“Go,” she said. “I couldn’t run now anyway.”
Daniel looked around frantically for anything in the flickering torchlight that might help ward off this lizard monster. He couldn’t leave Sybil behind. He only suggested running so she’d save herself. He grasped at the ground and pulled up a handful of pebbles that had broken free of the wall. He threw them in the lizard’s face.
>> Congratulations! You have unlocked Throw. At higher levels, you can Throw heavier objects without sacrificing accuracy. Current Throw capacity: 101 lbs. (5 lbs. + Base Strength 96).
The lizard turned and shot a long, thick tongue from its mouth. A few pebbles stuck to it, and the lizard pulled the rocks in. After a quick grinding sound, it spat the pebbles back out and shook its head vigorously before jumping at Daniel, slamming its head into his stomach.
>> You’ve been hit! 353 Damage.
Daniel sank to the ground in pain. He tried to spot the monster’s eyes in the hope that he could blind it. Then he heard the gentle sound of small rocks clattering onto the floor. The lizard turned and ate them greedily. These, it didn’t spit back out.
“Rockmander bait,” said a voice from the darkness behind the placated lizard. “Mountain stone has gone bad, but I have a store of clean old rocks they’ll still eat. They’re not so bad, rockmanders. Just hungry.”
The monster was satisfied, nestling onto the ground and scooping more small rocks into its mouth with a flick of its tongue.
“You two took a beating,” the man said, stepping closer. “I’m Onik. I don’t suppose Rumin sent you to apologize for his cowardice?”
“Daniel,” Daniel said, standing from the ground and taking a few steps away from the rockmander. Sybil was on her feet too and walking toward Onik. “And not quite. Is there somewhere we could talk?” He was eager to put some distance between them and the rockmander, even if Onik had a pocket full of bait.
Onik led them through the tunnels to a large room with wooden tables and more than a dozen burly minotaurs holding rock-hewn mugs full of some foul beverage. One minotaur reached across a table and scooped up a pile of coins while others groaned and threw playing cards down in a huff. Daniel stared at them, an involuntary frown crossing his face.
“A pastime until our moment of glory arrives,” Onik said, following Daniel’s gaze to the gambling table.
“So you just sit here gambling. All day,” Daniel said. “Isn’t that a waste?”
“There is beauty in leaving things up to chance. The universe has a mystifying way of balancing it all out in the end. Roll high this time, low another. It’s exciting, participating in life’s never-ending quest to rebalance itself, even on such a small scale as a gambling table. See for yourself. Sit. Play a while.”
“We don’t have time for games,” Sybil said.
“Au contraire,” Onik said. “Life is a game.” He reached into a small pouch that hung from his belt and took out a pair of six-sided dice. He placed them in front of Sybil. “You want to talk, let’s talk. What’s the harm in doing it over dice? Ladies first.”
Sybil rolled her eyes before rolling the dice. They added up to an 11. Daniel took them and rolled a 7 before Onik rolled snake eyes.
“We all get a question,” Onik said. “High roll goes first.”
Sybil stared into the bull’s bright blue eyes. His frame was much smaller than the other minotaurs in the room, all of whom watched their exchange with rapt attention. The hair that covered his body was brown, but darker than most of the minotaurs Daniel had met. His most striking feature was the impossibly black nose ring that hung from his large nostrils.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked.
“Ah, right to the chase!” Onik said. “Here’s the thing. We will flood the drow stronghold with minotaur fighters, and soon. The logistics are a bit rough though. The only way up there is through a locked door at the top of a steep, narrow stairwell. Rumin opposes our plan, and we risk bottlenecking at the door if there’s not a drow on the way down at the exact time we’re ready. We can’t risk camping behind the door or Rumin is likely to arrest us all for civil disobedience or something. As much as I disagree with my cousin, I don’t want a civil war.”
“We don’t think civil war is necessary,” Daniel said. “If we provoke the drow and lure them down here, we can fight them more easily. We’d like your help.”
“Not a question,” Onik said. “The rules aren’t that hard. My turn!”
“Wait,” Daniel said, “then I’ll ask a question.”
“Too late, wait for the next round.” Onik reached into his pouch for another die. This one had twenty sides to it. He rolled a 20 and the word Perception appeared above his head. A wide smile stretched across his face.
Daniel stared at the minotaur briefly.
>> Onik. Level 52 Chancer.
“Who are they?” Onik asked, staring at the large, golden die sitting before them. He held his gaze on the die for a few moments before looking up at Sybil, then Daniel. “So you’re a General then! Come to lead us aboveground, are you?”
“That’s two questions,” Daniel said.
“Touché,” Onik replied. “Let’s make a little wager. I bet we’ll do it without you two. We’ll storm the drow, knock ‘em dead, and reclaim the Aster Mountains.”
“I don’t make bets,” Daniel said.
“What’s up for grabs?” Sybil asked. It irritated Daniel that Sybil even contemplated taking Onik up on this.
“If I win,” Onik said, “and I’ll warn you up front, I consider myself the house that always wins, you’ll owe me a favor. If I lose, I’ll owe you one. You could do worse than to have someone like me in your debt.”
“We would do better,” Daniel said, “not to risk being in your debt at all.” Onik shrugged.
“You’re on,” Sybil said. “I make the bet. Alone. Daniel’s not part of this.”
“C’est la vie,” Onik said, reaching his hoof across the table toward Sybil.
She held her hand toward Onik, but then pulled it back abruptly. “On one condition. You wait until King Rumin has his chance at diplomacy. It may seem silly to you, but I want him to know what kind of a man Sage Tawn is before all hell breaks loose.”
Onik’s lip snarled up the side of his face as he grunted twice, sending quick bursts of air though his large nostrils. “Agreed,” he said. Sybil shook his hoof.
“Good,” she said. “If it comes to war, have all of your people join the General here.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Daniel said.
“I just finished your quest for you,” she replied. “The correct response was thank you.”
16
The mountain shook again without warning, sending chunks of purple rock falling from the ceiling. King Rumin braced himself against a wall until the tremor ended.
“He’ll truly wait?” Rumin asked.
“If he doesn’t,” Sybil said, “he’d violate the terms of our bet. I doubt he’d do that.”
“Then you have done well,” Rumin said, rewarding Daniel with XP. “Let us not waste another moment.”
Quest Complete: Minotaur de Force
Onik and his faction will refrain from violence. For now.
Reward: 26,000 XP.
>> Congratulations! You have reached Level 35. To apply your 8 skill points now, open your Skills and Attributes screen.
“Brother,” Petra said, “you hardly look ready for battle. You haven’t rested in over a day.”
“There is no time for rest,” the king said. “Every moment we wait gives birth to a new drow keen on slitting our throats. I almost lost my son today. I won’t risk more lives through inaction.”
Petra stood and approached King Rumin. “You’ll risk your own life by going unprepared.”
“Such is the burden of being king,” he replied. “If I don’t return—”
“I won’t hear the end of that sentence,” she said, holding up a cloven hoof and turning her head toward Daniel. “I’ve watched you squint this whole while. I don’t know by what odd circumstance you acquired Nightvision, but I can tell it is not strong. Take these.” She handed Daniel two small vials of glowing green liquid. “Lichening in a bottle. It’s a composite of moss, fungi, and lichen native to the tunnels. It should provide you light, for a time.”
“Thank you,” Daniel said. “I’ll do my best to help the king succeed. Sybil?”
“I’ll stay here and keep an eye out for Onik,” she said. “If I went with you, I’d just draw attention. Nothing sticks out here more than a golden-skinned elf. They’ll think I’m one of Sivona’s.”
Daniel nodded and followed King Rumin through the tunnels, back toward the entry chamber at the base of the stone stairs.
“That woman called you brother,” Daniel said.
“Petra?” Rumin replied. “She is my sister. She was next in line for the throne before Ulthor was born. She is well steeped in our traditions and knows well the heavy burden of ruling our people. Ulthor admires her greatly. As do I.”
Daniel and Rumin reached the stairs that led to the drow’s stronghold. Daniel crept to the top and waited for the door to open. Rumin stood at the stairs’ halfway point with his mace over his shoulder.
The air hung heavy with anticipation. The second that door opened, they would launch into action. It could have taken hours before a young drow opened that door, but thankfully it took only a few minutes.
The second Daniel heard the heavy stone door creak on its hinges, he activated Sneak. A white-haired drow stepped forward, a bow in his hand, and turned to pull the door closed behind him. Daniel, so far unseen, put a foot in the doorway to stop the door from locking shut and Rumin pressed himself against the stone wall. The drow didn’t even have time for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. A few steps in and the bull whacked him with his mace from behind, sending the dark elf tumbling toward the floor in a heap.
Rumin turned and charged, bringing his mace down on the drow’s chest. Daniel felt guilty watching Rumin one-shot the player, still dressed in beginner’s rags. No newbie entering the tunnels would expect to face off with the king of the minotaurs only two feet into the underground, though Daniel was sure any minotaur would have knocked this player out. He didn’t have the foresight to level up and get better equipment before heading into the tunnels. The player’s lavender body vanished from the game.
Daniel squeezed through the narrow crack in the stone door. The hallways here were lit by glowing moss on the ceilings and walls. He hoped he would remain unnoticed in the dim light as he had last time he used Sneak here.
Rumin was close behind, pushing the door open wider to fit his broad bovine frame. When Daniel pressed the door closed, the dead player’s key was still in the lock. Daniel took it in case he and Rumin needed it for a quick escape to the tunnels that would lure the drow into an ambush. He stowed it in his inventory, next to a granite key he had taken from Sagma’s temple. He didn’t know what use he had for that now that the god of wisdom’s old tower had sunk into the desert sands, but he kept it nonetheless.
Tawn’s chamber was down a long corridor of smooth polished stone, directly opposite the door to the minotaurs’ basement level prison. The length of the corridor was broken only by an archway in the center that connected to a room on the left. That room was large and cavernous, the central meeting ground of the drow. On Daniel’s last trip here, it was filled with NPCs ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Daniel pulled his cloak tighter and tiptoed toward the Sage’s office, hoping to avoid drawing anyone’s attention.
Rumin took two steps, but his hooves clacked against the polished floor. He slowed and strained to step lightly, but no matter how careful his movements, the minotaur king’s massive weight prevented him from moving noiselessly. If even a single drow entered that hallway they would lose their chance at a private audience with Tawn.
The next thousand feet looked more like a thousand miles.
“The more time we spend in this hallway, the more attention we’ll draw,” Rumin said. “We need to run for it.”
That was not the plan. The plan was to sneak into the Sage’s office and demand an audience.
Rumin charged toward the Sage’s closed door and Daniel bolted, struggling to stay ahead of the massive king. He reached the door just in time to swing it open and let Rumin charge inside rather than smash the wooden door to bits.
Sage Tawn had his back turned, but he spun around when Rumin slammed into the Sage’s desk. Daniel shut the door behind him and pressed his back against it, hoping they hadn’t caught the attention of any dark elves.
Tawn reached into a jar of wands on his desk and lifted one toward Rumin. “How?” was all he managed to ask. Tawn focused on King Rumin, not once glancing at Daniel as he burned away his stamina on his Sneak skill. Daniel stared at the purple-skinned elf while he considered Rumin.
“I am here to speak with you,” King Rumin said, “on behalf of my people. Leader to leader.”
“That’s rich,” Tawn said. “You are king of nothing.” He kept his wand trained on Rumin. “Haven’t I thinned your herd enough? Now the sacrificial bull comes to me?”
“Please,” Rumin said, descending to one knee. “There is no need for war. We can coexist. Just tell me your terms.”
Daniel wondered why his Surveil skill hadn’t kicked in yet. He kept his eyes trained on the wizard, clothed in a black robe with loose sleeves. With his wand arm raised, the fabric flopped down toward his shoulder revealing a frail limb covered in wrinkled skin. Tawn lowered it slowly.
“Your timing is interesting,” he said. “We call this place The Ersatz because it is not our true home. Though we have not set foot in Diardenna for hundreds of years, the forest is where we belong. The number of drow to enter these tunnels has increased manyfold recently. I expect we are strong enough now to reclaim the forest and slay the elf queen that banished us.”
“So you would return us to the mountain?” Rumin asked, looking up at the Sage.
“I would lock you in the tunnels and forget you ever lived,” Sage Tawn said, “unless you were of greater value aboveground.”
“Anything you ask of us,” Rumin said.
“If we were to travel,” Tawn said, “we would need mounts. Your people will be our steeds. We will ride you into battle.”
Rumin stood. Daniel couldn’t see his face, but he heard the king grunt and imagined the fire in his eyes. “That is humiliating!” Rumin said. “We would not debase ourselves in that way. Ask something else.”
Tawn raised his arm again, igniting a small flame from the tip of his wand. “You could feed my troops,” he said, “you’d make a fine steak.”
Rumin knelt again. “I angered too quickly, Sage. Perhaps my people would agree to these terms.”
“The stick always works better than the carrot with your kind,” Tawn said, waving a hand toward Daniel. Daniel froze for a moment, but no magic erupted from Tawn’s palm. Instead:
>> Surveil failed. Target has interrupted your action.
“But no,” Tawn continued, “mounts alone are not enough. We
could find another creature for the cavalry. Perhaps the arackids. You brutes are too indelicate for our purposes.
“No,” Tawn said, “I have no use for you after all. As I’m sure you didn’t expect to survive this conversation, let’s move on to your inevitable end.” A column of fire erupted from Tawn’s wand, splashing onto the ceiling and scorching the rock. Daniel reached for his sword and deactivated Sneak. He and the king may not be a match for the old wizard, but maybe they could hold him off long enough to retreat to the tunnels where they’d have an advantage.
Tawn spared Daniel only a moment’s glance before he began lowering his conjured firestorm toward Rumin. “Perhaps you’ll negotiate with me,” Daniel said. “You and I have the same goal here. I lead the dwarven army. We want to destroy Sivona as badly as you do. We should work together.”
Tawn’s eyes glimmered for a moment, a telltale sign that Daniel’s high Diplomacy was having some effect. Tawn squinted his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the glimmer was gone. Diplomacy alone was not enough.
“Humans make for good steak too,” Tawn said, churning a larger firestorm from his wand. The room was sweltering, though Tawn’s glare stayed ice cold. “Sivona must die by drow hands or not at all.”
“Wait!” Rumin yelled. “There is something else I can offer.”
Tawn stared at Rumin in silence.
Rumin stood and looked Tawn in the eyes. “I will give you the Ring of Endless Night.”