by G. R. Cooper
“Wulfgar, beautiful lad, how are you? It’s been too long!” She stepped back from him, beaming. She took his left hand in her two and tutted, “Och, you’re skin and bones! Have you no eaten?”
Wulfgar smiled - she was the grandmother he never had.
“And what’s this I hear about you and the King?”
“I have no problem with King Clive, I just want to create my own lands. My own realm,” he thought for a moment, remembering Heather’s background, “a lairdship in the highlands.”
“Oh what a dream! A fine dream!”
“Not a dream. I’m going to make it happen.”
Heather seemed to wipe a tear from her eye, “A wonder. Oh, how I miss my highlands. My people.”
“Join us.”
“What?”
“Join us. Bring your shop. You’ll have all of the business you can handle, and you’ll be among your own people.” He cocked his head and raised one eyebrow, smiling down at her.
“Do you think I could?”
“Why not?”
Wulfgar pulled out his coin sack and spread five gold pieces on the counter beside them.
“Is this enough to pack up and transport yourself and your wares to Marchstone?”
She smiled dumbly and nodded.
“Then it’s settled. Come home, Heather.”
Wulfgar waved and went past the counter and into the shop’s back room. Making his way past several large sacks of herbs, he dropped through a hole in the back wall and into darkness below.
Well, that was easy, thought Wulfgar as his eyes adjusted to the darkness within the rat warren. He began walking, using his perfect recall to remind himself how to get to the cavern where he’d first met the Rat King of Light. He wondered if the ease in getting Heather to agree to join his town had anything to do with any manipulation by Clive. He shrugged off the thought as paranoid, I’ve got enough to worry about without seeing figures in every shadow.
Wulfgar saw figures in the shadows ahead. He was now deeper within the ground as the ceiling of the tunnel no longer topped out at the floorboards of a city building above. The darkness was getting more Stygian by the second. He had been about to activate his Illumination spell when he’d seen the barest hint of movement in the blackness ahead. Instead, he activated Stealth.
Moving quickly, he rapidly came upon the rear-guard of a line of kobolds. Five of them. He could just make out the leader - larger than the rest and in the front of the line. They were creeping slowly through the shadow, heading on the direct route into the Rat King of Light’s throne room. A raiding party. He remembered the fight he’d stumbled upon in that very room the week prior, and how killing the thigh-high creatures had left him nauseated. This game world seemed to give you an unpleasant physical reaction to killing creatures of neutral or good leanings. He wondered if that was the case for players who chose a path of evil. He didn’t think so - they probably took the same feeling of elation from those kills as he did when killing creatures of an evil bent.
He reached behind and grasped Shepherd’s Bite, his short sword that Lauren had imbued with a fifty percent chance per hit of inflicting poison as well as redirecting all damage inflicted back to the wielder as healing at a one to one ratio. The leather-wrapped handle fit neatly into his hand and he slowly pulled it out of its sheath nestled in the small of his back.
Wulfgar bent over the trailing kobold. He knew that his Hidden Stab skill, while giving him a powerful increase in damage applied, also removed him from Stealth. With five enemies, he wanted to remain unseen for as long as possible. He hoped a quick throat slice would prevent Hidden Stab from activating.
Only one way to find out, he thought as he grabbed the kobold from behind with his left hand, his fingers pulling tight over the creature’s mouth and driving the head backward into his own crouched chest while simultaneously reaching around and pulling his short sword across the exposed throat, slicing it wide.
A small wave of nausea swept over him - easier to take now that he was expecting it - and he felt the two small hands of the kobold reach to his hand and begin trying to pull his fingers away.
“12 points of damage!”
“You have poisoned your target!”
He felt the little creature struggle for a moment, then fall still as the poison had its effect. Wulfgar knelt quietly and gently laid the body onto the stone floor. Still in Stealth, he stood and walked toward the next in line. His long legs rapidly took up the distance that the kobolds had covered while one of their party was being killed by the human they didn’t know was behind them.
Wulfgar repeated the movement from the previous kill.
“11 points of damage!”
“You have stunned your target!”
He grimaced into the darkness. No poison on this attack, but at least the kobold was stunned. He quickly pulled Shepherd’s Bite across the kobold’s throat, giving it a twin to the gaping red maw that was pulsing blood rapidly out onto the chest of the creature.
“10 points of damage!”
“You have poisoned your target!”
The kobold collapsed into Wulfgar’s arms. Whatever damage the poison had done, it was minimal - the kobold had been near death after two quick slices of Wulfgar’s blade. He left the second corpse on the ground and trotted forward, eager to kill as many as he could before his Stealth timer ran out.
He came in behind the kobold that had been in the middle of the line of five when they all entered into an open area; a roughly round cavern that Wulfgar recalled was nearing the Rat lair. The leader turned as he got to the center, and Wulfgar moved off to the side and began circling the trio to get behind the boss.
“Where are the others?” hissed the chief. He waved his left hand into the darker passageway that they’d all just left. The other two looked nonplussed, and Wulfgar took the opportunity to move in. By his reckoning, he had around ten seconds left until his Stealth ended.
He thrust forcefully toward the center of the large kobold’s back, and felt his sword jar as it passed between two ribs, hitting the higher one. He jerked the sword out and stepped back.
“Critical Hit!”
“13 points of damage!”
“18 points of damage, Hidden Stab!”
“Your target is stunned!”
The captain fell to his knees as Wulfgar raised his left hand toward one of the pair of kobolds that remained standing. It exploded into flame, flashing light into the almost pure darkness of the catacombs.
“8 points of damage!”
He stepped back, moving his hand over the last undamaged kobold tried to activate his Fire Shot spell again. It fizzled into the darkness.
Shit! Not enough mana! He wouldn’t have enough for two rapid shots until he reached the next level in Sorcery or gained in Intelligence. He stepped forward, into the middle of the trio. The burned kobold growled in pain and the two creatures began unsheathing their short, sharp, weapons. Dropping to two knees, Wulfgar activated Blade Wind and his right arm shot out as he spun in place.
The blade hit the leader first, slicing across the top of the creature’s un-helmeted head.
“5 points of damage!”
“You have poisoned your target!”
His arm swept around and caught the smoldering kobold across the chest.
“Critical Hit!”
“13 points of damage!”
The body flew back against the cavern wall and slumped, dead, as Wulfgar’s body completed the full circle and Shepherd’s Bite impacted the third kobold.
“7 points of damage!”
The creature stumbled backward, dropping its newly drawn blade, and turned, fleeing in terror down the cavern.
Wulfgar grinned into the darkness and stood, activating his Illumination spell. He turned and looked to the ground behind him. To the kobold boss. Wulfgar bent and looked to the now prostrate little brute. As the human watched, the kobold rolled onto its back, breathing heavily and coughing wetly. The poison still coursed t
hrough its veins.
“Do you want me to heal you? To cure you of your poison?” asked Wulfgar.
The kobold answered by spitting angrily up at the human. Wulfgar shrugged and stepped over the kobold and walked toward the Rat King of Light’s realm. As he left the little room, he heard the gurgling rattle from its throat as the kobold died.
He ducked through an opening into a much larger room, waiting to be noticed by the crowd of rats surrounding a nest in the middle. On the top of the nest rested the king.
“My lord,” said a voice from his right.
Wulfgar looked down and smiled, “My prince,” he replied, bowing slightly, “so very good to see you again.” He looked closely at the rodent. He assumed that the prince was a cousin to the royal offspring that accompanied him and his friends on their quest to rid the home of a banshee of the lich which had infested it, causing a cascading migration of banshee, faerie folk and rats that had been Wulfgar’s very first chain quest in this world.
What Wulfgar assumed was a smile rose to greet him as the rat prince nodded and began walking toward his father in the middle of the room. Even though his character sheet told him that his reputation with Rats left them in awe of him, it was a little disconcerting to walk among them and have them all bow and back away, making room for him to approach their liege.
He reached the ‘throne’ and bowed his head to the Rat King of Light.
“Hello again, King Wulfgar,” said the rat, bowing his head in return.
So they’ve heard, thought Wulfgar. Makes sense. They are everywhere in the city, if underneath.
“Nothing escapes your majesty,” began Wulfgar, “and it pleases me that you’ve heard of my circumstance.”
“As your elevation pleases us,” returned the rodent king.
Wulfgar again bowed his head in thanks, “I come to you for your assistance, should you feel myself worthy.”
“How may we be of help?”
“Information. I need to know what, if anything, your people hear of my,” he began to say ‘enemies’, but that would remind them of who his enemy was - and he wasn’t enough aware of their relationship with Clive, if any, to presume that they would welcome openly declaring against the city above, “situation. What they hear of my situation,” he nodded. “I need to know if you hear of anything that you feel I should know about.”
“That seems a reasonable request for allies.”
“My thanks. Your alliance is greatly valued.”
“You are now the ally of the Rat King of Light!”
“Is there anything I can offer your majesty in return,” Wulfgar smiled, “in order to celebrate this new alliance?”
“I can think of nothing,” returned the rat, “at this time.”
“You’ll find four dead kobolds in the passageways,” he said thumbing over his shoulder, “let them be an offering of celebration.” He realized that he’d forgotten to loot the corpses. They probably carried no more than a few coppers, but he was in no position yet to look down his nose at that.
That was a start.
Wulfgar thought for a moment. He was planning an extensive underground build out of Marchstone, taking advantage of the natural, existing caverns beneath the town.
“Would you or, perhaps, one of your sons, be interested in establishing the rat people beneath my new town?”
The king looked to the prince, then back at Wulfgar, “That would please us greatly. When could this begin?”
“As soon as you wish,” Wulfgar bowed.
“Excellent. My thanks. My son will arrive there with a group to determine the extent of what we can use. They will arrive within the week.”
Wulfgar nodded his thanks and looked through his character sheet. The rat folk held him in awe and were now allied. His hope was that they would, somehow, function as allies during the coming war. He had seen enough of their ferocity on the Lich quest to be comfortable that they would valuable. He scrolled down the list. He was considered a Dwarf Friend, but wasn’t sure that was enough to count on their assistance in the fight. He would have to add a trip to see the dwarf king on his ever increasing to-do list. He wasn’t sure he had enough time to do everything he needed, even though he seemed to be accomplishing a lot, quickly.
The elves, he saw, held him in suspicion. That was first on his list of things to take care of when he returned to Marchstone. He couldn’t see leaving to chance the reactions of a powerful people who literally lived on the flank of his kingdom - there was nothing preventing a fighting force from leaving the sylvan forests and attacking him from the rear during the fight at the wall. Wulfgar had to resolve that situation. It was vital. If nothing else, he had to at least find a way to ensure that the elves would take no side at all.
He continued through his list. The orcs held him in respect, but that wasn’t in any way the same thing as friendliness. More like wariness. He seriously doubted that he could convince the orcs to side with him. Maybe he could entice them into attacking Clive’s army.
Wulfgar frowned, would dealing with orcs against humans serve to reduce my standing with every other race, including my own?
He wasn’t sure it was worth the risk of being ostracized from the ‘good’ peoples of the world.
He got to the last item on the list. The faerie. They held him in high esteem. Wulfgar looked back up to the king.
“Your majesty. I beg a favor, if you are able. Can you get a message to the faerie folk?”
After some polite chit-chat, Wulfgar left the rats as soon as he felt he could do so without being rude. He still had much to do to prepare himself and Marchstone for what was to come before making his rendezvous with Rydra that night. In addition to attracting new players and NPCs to the town, he had some personal business to take care of.
He stopped for a minute in Heather’s shop to once again reassure her that he was serious about wanting her in the town, and was pleased to see that she was already making preparations. She had hired a couple of men to begin loading the wagon she had already purchased. By her estimate, she would be able to leave Edonis within the next day or so and arrive in Marchstone several days afterward. Wulfgar made a mental note to have one of the town NPC’s prepare one of the empty shops for her use.
Wulfgar left her store and made his way back toward the main square in front of Clive’s keep. Arriving, he worked his way through the crowds and toward the guild hall for the magic users.
After climbing the steps, he pushed through the ornate doors. The first time he’d entered this building, when looking to join the guild, he’d entered into a large room. The room was vaulted, with the four corners of the room each stretching upward with what looked like buttresses that emerged from the ground and expanded as they rose until they met at the center of the roof. From the center, where the buttresses met, a large shimmering black sphere hung on a heavy wrought chain. Directly beneath the sphere a red wooden chair sat throne-like in the center of the room. Surrounding the chair a compass rose was inlaid into the dark marble of the floor. Instead of the cardinal point references, however, the three furthest points displayed three different symbols. Those symbols - a leaf, a star, and a human skull - each represented a different magical path available to him. The paths of morning, night and evening.
The paths of morning and night were, respectively, the paths of nature and power. The path of evening was the path of life and death.
Wulfgar was a Magus of Evening. His chosen path offered him the greatest influence over the creatures of the world.
When Wulfgar pushed through the door, however, he was greeted with a different scene than his previous visit.
“Wulfgar! Welcome!”
The same woman who had greeted him on his initial entrance stood from her seat. Her long ebony hair fell to her waist as she stood, her purple eyes shining. As before, Wulfgar was stunned by her beauty.
He smiled, “I’m at a disadvantage.”
She laughed lightly, “Scarlett.” She held out her hand, Wu
lfgar took it and shook.
“Nice to meet you. Again.” He looked around the room. It was warmly furnished. Large leather chairs. Wood paneled walls. Like an English men’s club.
He looked back at Scarlett, frowning, “Kind of a different feel from the last time I was here.”
“We redecorated!” She smiled and returned to her seat, waving to the one next to her.
Wulfgar followed and sat, “I assume that the other place was for someone who wasn’t in the guild, and since I am in the guild I’m brought here,” he waved his hands, “to the clubhouse?”
She nodded, “You’re starting to get the hang of this. That we can do some magical stuff. Good for you!” She clapped, smiling happily.
He laughed, sitting back in the comfortable chair. “So what other benefits do I get? From being in the guild?”
“Not many, just yet,” she admitted. “The higher your rank, the more you benefit.” She smiled, “And to anticipate your next question, it has nothing to do with your magical level. It has everything to do with whether the leadership of the guild thinks you worthy and ready for advancement.”
“There’s nothing, really, that you can do to try to influence that decision. It’s taken as a whole, based on everything we’ve observed,” she concluded.
He nodded, looking around the room.
“I assume that most of the members do not gain a leadership role.”
“That would be a fair assumption,” she agreed, “and your role in society has no bearing. Neither you, as a king, nor King Clive have any advantage over anyone else.”
So Clive is in the guild, Wulfgar thought. Interesting.
“You’ve heard about my current situation, then.”
She nodded and smiled again.
“Any thoughts?”
“No. Not really. We’re not a political organization. We don’t take sides. We are completely neutral.”
“Completely?”
“Mmmhmm. No combat is allowed on these premises. Were you here with Clive or one of his supporters, you would both be safe here from the other.”