Battleborne Book 2: Wrack and Ruin

by Dave Willmarth

  “Wow! Thirty gold?” Lagrass made his eyes go wide and stared at the sergeant in false wonder. “I’ve never had ten gold to my name, let alone thirty!”

  “Yes, well, don’t go around advertising it.” The sergeant looked over his shoulder. “There are those about who would relieve you of it, as you’ve already seen today.”

  Lagrass pulled five gold coins from the bag and offered them to the sergeant. “Please, take this, as my thanks. For assisting me with the magistrate. You didn’t have to make those recommendations.”

  The sergeant refused the coin, pushing it back toward him. “I appreciate the gesture, but I was just doing my job. And we’re not allowed to accept gifts…” He paused and looked around before continuing more quietly. “Especially here in a public building.”

  “Ah, of course. I was just going to return to my inn, the Golden Orchid. Should I happen to see you there, I’d be happy to buy you a drink or three to express my gratitude.” He put the coins into the bag, then the bag into his inventory. The sergeant gave him a wink and departed, the rest of his squad waiting for him outside.

  Wanting to get out of the limelight as quickly as possible, Lagrass exited the building and walked down the very center of each street, following his map back the way he had come with the guards until he reached his inn.

  Returning to his room, he sat on the bed and just breathed long, slow breaths for a while. Maybe staying in the town wasn’t such a good idea.

  He took some time to review his notifications, and assigned all his attribute points to Strength and Endurance. The guards in this town were even higher level than in the starter city, and he wasn’t going to get caught out of shape if he had to fight or run again.

  After an hour or so of trying to calm himself, he went downstairs to the common room. He ordered a meal of meat stew and warm rolls, and a bottle of his favorite spirits. He had just finished eating when the sergeant appeared. Waving at the barkeep, he moved to sit opposite Lagrass, who immediately offered to buy the man a meal. He called the waitress over and the sergeant ordered, and Lagrass asked her to bring an extra glass. The moment it arrived, he poured some of the alcohol. “I’m told this is not very good compared to some others, but I find I quite like it. We can get you something else, if you prefer.” As he spoke, he placed five gold coins on the table near the sergeant’s hand. A second later, it was gone.

  “This will do just fine. I kind of enjoy it myself.” He took up the glass and downed the shot in one gulp, pounding his chest as it burned its way through him. Max poured him another, and this time he only sipped at it.

  “Thank you again, sergeant. I believe without your help I might have visited those small dark cells.”

  “As I said, just doing my job.” The sergeant replied as his food arrived. The table was mostly quiet for the next several minutes as he wolfed down his own bowl of stew. When he was done, he wiped his face with a napkin, and got up. “Gotta get back to work, they only give us twenty minutes to eat. Good luck to you, Lagrass.” He nodded his head and departed.

  Not wanting to be cooped up in his room alone with his thoughts, Lagrass paid for the meals and the drinks, stowed the remainder of the bottle in his inventory, and headed out of the inn.

  He’d only gone two blocks when he spotted a pair of guards following him. Two blocks later, he noticed another pair up ahead staring at him. Not at all comfortable with this development, he turned onto a side street and walked into the first shop door he saw.

  It turned out to be bookstore. Embarassed, he turned to leave, but a female voice called out to him. “What can I help you with, sir?”

  Turning, he found a lovely young woman with long chestnut hair smiling at him. Blushing, he stammered. “I’m… I’m afraid I walked into the wrong shop. I don’t know how to read.”

  Still smiling, she asked, “Would you like to learn? I have a primer here somewhere…” She turned her back to him for a moment, bending over to grab something from a low shelf. When she turned back, he tried his best to focus on her face. “Here it is. If you study this, it will teach you the basics of reading. After that, it’s just a matter of practice.”

  He gave her a sincere smile, stepping forward. “Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?”

  “Three silver.” She replied, her eyes meeting his. “For the man who stepped into the wrong shop.”

  He gladly paid her, thanked her, and left the store. Two of the guards were waiting just outside, making him jump a bit in surprise when he noticed them.

  “Mister Lagrass? I’m private Colin. The sergeant asked us to watch over you for a day or two. Them two you killed, they had friends, and we’re to keep them from repaying you in kind.”

  Lagrass looked at the two guards with their serious expressions, then back to the street he’d been on before, where the other two were waiting.

  “Uhm, thank you, private Colin. I appreciate the goodwill.” He handed them each a gold coin, then gave Colin two more for their partners on the corner. He held up the newly purchased book. “I think I’ll just return to the inn for the rest of the day. Got some studying to do.”

  “Probably safer that way. They’ll not bother you inside the inn.” The private nodded for him to proceed, and they followed him at about a half block distance. The other two, seeing him coming, faded into the crowded street.

  Chapter 28

  Max sat at a table in one of the stone buildings inside the outpost. Around the table with him were Redmane, Ironhand, Spellslinger, Enoch, the corporals, Dalia, and Nessa. They’d brought Ironhand to give him a tour, and the king had openly wept at seeing the place, then laughed when watching the golems move and react to instructions.

  Now they were discussing the best way to move forward. There were a lot of unanswered questions, and challenges to be addressed.

  “Redmane, Ironhand, the mages you’ve provided have worked wonders on the city above. In the last week they’ve finished construction on our entire perimeter wall, then gone back and widened and improved it so that we effectively have an elevated road with small fortified emplacements every five hundred paces or so.”

  Enoch grinned. “That ain’t all. There be a dozen underground strongholds scattered about the city now. Each one with a water supply, and room fer three hundred souls to take shelter if needed. By the end o’ next week, each one will have a hidden tunnel that all connect to a larger one that leads out o’ the city.”

  “And yer dwarven steel gates will be ready about the same time.” Ironhand added. “Me gift to a promising young king. There’ll have to be a celebration when it’s installed, so it do no’ seem suspicious.”

  “I’m always up for a good party.” Max smiled. “We’ll be sure and have enough food and ale for the crowd.”

  “It might help ye to recruit more crafters n such, as well.” Enoch suggested. “The more rumors o’ this place get spread about, the easier it will be.”

  “The Greystones have been recruiting like their lives depend on it, which maybe they do, if they sunk their whole nest egg into this trade route.” Max thought about it for a moment. “Might be better to ease off on our own recruiting a bit. As long as we have sufficient residents to keep this place running, feed everybody, provide at least a basic level of goods… it might be better to let them build up first. It’ll make them happy, ease the tensions between us, and make our sector more attractive in the end.”

  “There be a great opportunity here.” Redmane pulled out a large scroll and unrolled it across the table, using one of the heavy square silvers to hold down each corner. It turned out to be a map of the underground region, with Deepcrag at its center, and Dara Seans marked with a gold star to one side. The goblin settlement was shown too, with a red X over it. “Beyond the trade route, there be wilds around the settlements that ain’t been explored in centuries. There could be mines out there, for example, that ye could claim and operate, or sell to a mining consortium.”

  Ironhand put his finger over the star
. “And if we can figure out the rune magic, this place will become the center of a rebirth o’ the dwarven race!”

  Max shook his head. “Assuming we haven’t pissed off the Runemaster’s Guild, and they don’t come through that portal over there and wipe us all out.” He motioned over his shoulder in the direction of the portal Spellslinger had found. “At some point, we’re going to need to activate that, and find out where it goes. It’s better to stumble into a fight than to sit with our head in the sand and get ambushed when we’re not expecting it. I’d rather fight on someone else’s turf. We can always retreat back here and destroy the portal, if necessary.”

  “Don’t ye even think it!” Spellslinger was on his feet, thumping the table with his fist. “Ye put one tiny scratch on one o’ them runes, I’ll carve out yer heart n feed it to Princess meself!”

  “Easy, old goat.” Ironhand placed a hand on the mage’s shoulder. “Max meant no harm. It be a sound tactic, to retreat and cut off the enemy’s access. We’d not do such a thing unless the need were desperate.” He sighed. “Reclaiming the rune magic be vital to our people, but we’ll accomplish nothin’ if we’re all dead.”

  “I agree.” A voice from the doorway surprised them all. This was a secret meeting in a secret location, and guests were not expected. A moment later, Dalia gasped and practically fell out of her chair, kneeling.

  “Lord Regin.” She bowed her head, followed immediately by all the other dwarves, including Ironhand, Smitty, and Nessa. Dylan looked confused for a moment, but copied the others.

  Max, knowing Regin detested such displays, still took a knee for the sake of the dwarves, and bowed his head. “Welcome, Regin, to our not-so-secret bat cave.”

  “Ha!” the god of crafting winked at Max. “Get up, all of ye! Take yer seats.” He waved a hand and a gilded chair appeared at the end of the table opposite Max. He hopped up into the chair and smiled at the dwarves who hesitantly took their seats as ordered.

  “I’ve only a few minutes, can’t leave that little goblin thief alone for long, so stop yer nonsense and pay attention.” He looked around the table, everyone seeming to calm as his gaze met theirs. “Max, ye have done well, lad. Growin’ yer kingdom, protectin’ yer people, provin’ yerself in the eyes o’ yer allies like Ironhand here, as well as the gods. But these be just the first steps in a long journey. Don’t ye give up, or falter along the way. Many lives will depend on it.”

  Max felt a tingle as he absorbed the words. He wasn’t at all sure that he liked it.

  “Ironhand, ye support Max in his efforts, yer cousins, too. He’ll bring ye the reward ye seek, in time.” The dwarf king bowed his head almost to the point it would touch the table.

  “Ye three other Battleborne, and the rest… ye be the bulwark, the eyes and ears, the healing hands, weapons, and wisdom, that’ll help carry Max to his destiny. Yer loyalty be without question, and ye’ll accomplish great things if ye watch each other’s backs.”

  All three soldiers nodded at the divine dwarf, accepting his words as fact. Dalia, Redmane, Enoch and Spellslinger looked as if they’d prostrate themselves on the floor again, while Nessa remained stoic, as usual.

  “Ye need to know that there still be Runemasters in the world, though they be greatly reduced from what they once were. They’re no enemy to you, Max, and ye need not fear them. In fact, they could use yer help. Ye won’t be the only ones seekin’ their knowledge and power, and others have much less honorable intentions. The time has not yet come for ye to step through that portal, but it will, soon enough. Get stronger, gather allies, prepare yourselves as best ye can.”

  Regin nodded at Max, about to take his leave, when something caught his eye. “Ha!” He reached out and scooped up one of the square silver coins off a corner of the map. “Where’d ye find these?”

  “Some in Deepcrag, some here.” Max replied. “You know something about them?”

  “I should…” Regin held up the coin and pointed at it. “That be me own face right there.”

  Max’s eyes widened, as did those of the rest of the companions. “That’s you?”

  “Aye, from back when I first ascended. Fer a while, I ruled a kingdom like yerself and Ironhand, though one so vast it’d be hard fer ye to comprehend. It were a time of great prosperity, if I do say so meself. Crafters were honored, wars were rare, and me people were mostly content.” He sighed. “When I ascended into the pantheon upon me death, some crafters created these tribute coins. Each one was meant to be a prayer, an offering of thanks brought to the temple, or payment for the priests to perform healing. They were never meant to be currency fer trade.”

  Regin scratched at his beard for a moment. “Someone who came here when this place were active must have discovered one o’ me old temples n looted the coins… did ye find many?”

  “Thousands.” Max confirmed, and an idea struck him. “Regin, would you object if we revived the custom? You’ve been a tremendous influence in my life since I arrived here, and maybe this is a way I can thank you. We’ll build you a temple here, and in each of my settlements, and distribute these coins as rewards for quest completions, acts of heroism or kindness… and the people can bring them to your temple as they did in the past. To ask for healing, or a blessing, or simply to say thank you.”

  Ironhand nodded. “Darkholm will have a new temple as well.”

  Regin stood, his back straight and his chest puffed out. “I’d be honored.” His voice was rough, and Max thought his eyes looked a bit watery. With a flick of his thumb, he tossed the coin into the air. They all watched it fly down the length of the table, where Max caught it. When they looked back toward Regin, he was gone.

  Sensing an opportunity that Max couldn’t argue with, Ironhand grinned. “Max! I’ll need a thousand o’ them coins to distribute among me own people. And considerin’ their purpose, and the fact that they feature the face o’ Regin himself, I’ll be payin ye twenty gold a piece.” He held up a hand when Max started to argue. “Now, don’t be tryin’ to deny the good citizens of Darkholm the right to commune with one o’ their gods! I’ll hear no argument. You can spare a thousand o’ them coins and still have plenty left fer yer own folk!”

  Redmane laughed aloud, as did Enoch. “Let it go, Max. He’s got ye this time.” The chamberlain winked at Ironhand. “And twenty thousand gold would be a nice boost to our treasury.”

  Max sighed, and nodded once. It wasn’t technically a handout, as the dwarves took their religion very seriously. And he was sure Ironhand would put the coins to good use. Plus the story of where the coins were found might motivate more settlers to join him. It was a win for everyone, and he only had to swallow his pride just a little.

  “You have a deal.” He shook hands with the dwarf king as a golden light surrounded them both.

  Congratulations! Your Sovereign Class level has increased by +1!

  By setting aside your pride and accepting an offer that significantly benefits the

  citizens of two kingdoms, you have earned the next level in your Sovereign Class.

  Morale boost! The morale of your citizenry is boosted by 5%.

  Production boost! Due to the morale increase, your citizens are 2% more productive.

  This includes crafters, farmers, miners, and citizen fertility.

  Your Diplomacy skill has increased by +1!

  Red appeared on the table, standing in the middle of the map and clapping her hands. “Well done, your Majesty.” Her tone held almost no sarcasm at all.”

  Distracted, Max replied, “Thank you, Red. That means a lot coming from you.” When her eyes widened, and she looked around the table, Max realized he’d spoken out loud. There were those at the table who didn’t know about Red. He supposed it was time they did.

  “Uh, Red, go ahead and become visible to everyone here. For those of you who haven’t met her yet… this is my soul-bonded guide, Red…”

  *****

  Lagrass spent a few more days in the town, his escort of guards present in
the background anytime he left the inn. It wasn’t always the same guards, but there were always four of them, and they kept their distance. On the second day, as he unobtrusively observed their movements, it occurred to him that they weren’t so much there for his protection. They were too far away to help if someone tried to stab him in the back, for example.

  “I’m bait.” The epiphany struck him. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. The guards weren’t kidding about the dead men’s friends. They were hoping the criminals might take a shot at revenge, or at stealing the reward money, and they could swoop in to make more arrests.

  That realization, combined with his growing concern over being recognized and arrested for his various murders, motivated Lagrass to hit the road. He visited the alchemist to turn in his quest on the third day, that being a plausible amount of time for him to have gone out and gathered the items in the forest. That earned him enough experience to bring him up to level nine, almost to ten. Instead of gold, he accepted some healing and mana potions, and his first spell.

  It was a simple light magic healing spell that, at level one, granted him fifty points of health over ten seconds. “This will help with all the little bumps and scrapes one gets while crawling around in the forest after herbs. Use the spell as often as you can to level it up.” The shopkeeper had advised. “At level ten, it can heal for as many as a thousand points.”

  Lagrass tried casting it on himself, and a pleasantly warm tingle passed through his body. Motivated by how cool and useful the spell was, he asked where he might learn more. The alchemist told him that normally one would go to the Mages’ Guild, but there wasn’t a branch in town. There was an inscriptionist in town, but his scrolls and spellbooks cost more gold than Lagrass carried.

  When the alchemist saw his look of disappointment, he asked, “What other spells do you know?”