The Orb of Wrath (The Merchant's Destiny Book 1)

by Nic Weissman

“We can't be sure that such a thing is possible. Many portals are unidirectional; they only allow the flow to a destination,” Mithir gestured.

  “Besides, there is the problem of the enemies that are still around; especially the vampires. We had agreed to open the portal in the valley, to prevent any of those monsters following us back to Bor. I would not want to be responsible for bringing home such a monster,” Ithelas said.

  “I know. I know. We had already spoken about it. I just wanted to dream for a moment. A fortune like this would change our lives forever,” the knight said.

  They paused and each imagined himself for a moment, back at home and with that wealth in hand. Erion asked them to wait there and headed back to the room. He had to check those chests. As he walked into the room he was hopeful that the box was in one of them. But what if the box wasn't in those chests? It was a scenario that he didn't want to even contemplate. The first thought that someone might have is that the riches they could get in the mansion were even higher than the reward they had been offered. Therefore, some might consider it best to focus on accumulating and transporting everything they could and forget the mission. But Erion knew this would be a serious mistake. If they dismiss a contract like that, leaving the client without what he needed, but returning laden with riches, with certainty that client would never ever hire them again. This would prevent them from having other opportunities to gain new funds in other future jobs with him. Without the information, and the teleport scrolls that his client had given them, it would have been very difficult for them to be alone in a situation like that.

  Additionally, contractors talked among themselves. It would be only a matter of time for all the other clients to have news about their behavior and would eliminate any other option to get lucrative contracts in the future. They would become outlaw adventurers. Although the treasure was important, it did not fulfill all the aspirations that they could have. For example, Mithir wanted to build a wizard tower and a large laboratory, and this could cost clearly more than ten thousand gold coins. Even if they had the option of taking everything, it was possible that Mithir's part wouldn't reach that figure, although certainly it would be close. If they couldn't embark on more adventures, they would also need money to support themselves for life, and this was not cheap in a kingdom such as Bor; only the nobles with vassals, who regularly pay their taxes, had automatically ensured sustenance; and yet, they had to administer their money well and not spend foolishly or otherwise, even they wouldn't have sufficient income. The conclusion was clear: first priority, the box; second priority, what they could take, but without compromising their security on their return home.

  Erion stood in front of the first chest. He began to carefully review the lock with his picks, but careful not to try to open it. He confirmed his suspicions, the chest had a trap; a spring that would be activated if he tried to open it without the key. He tried to find a way to release the mechanism, but the chest was very well built. It was virtually impossible to access the spring without opening the chest first. This only left one way out. He'd have to open the lock with the picks first; he'd have to do it in a way so that the mechanism wouldn't be forced at all, as if he had the key itself in hand.

  The lock was average sized. He estimated that a straight five pick would be the best option to exercise primary pressure. He complemented this election with a medium angled crowbar; he had several of those, but decided to use his lucky pick. He had it for a very long time. He slowly introduced the two tools, seeking foothold in the tooth guard. He pressed lightly until he heard the first clack of the spring. Now only the last step was left, the hardest. With the pick in an angle, he pushed slightly to the right and then... he heard a clack again, this time the pivot guard. The lock was open, and he had managed to avoid the trap.

  He opened the lid and saw within six potions of different colors. It was a big chest to only hold those flasks; maybe at another time it held different things. He pocketed the bottles and headed to the last chest. After checking the lock, he concluded that it was not dangerous. However, it would not be easy to open. It was of great quality and quite old. He counted no less than five twist springs, which were wonderfully structured in multiple directions, which would make it very difficult to open; difficult, but not impossible.

  He took his lucky pick again. He had to work thoroughly. It took nearly fifteen minutes, but he finally got it. The chest was open. That lock had brought him to the very limit of his abilities. If I had been a little older, or rustier he would have failed; also if the lock would have had a sixth spring. In any case, he felt very satisfied; few could pick a lock like that.

  He opened the lid of the chest and, within it, there were several objects: a shield, a cape and armbands. Finally, in the bottom of the chest, there was also a beautiful wooden box. He recognized the namal by the hard and tough texture and the slightly yellowish brown color. The box had a very thin silver plate covering the lid and two sides. The plate had a fine engraved job representing a hill with some dwarves that climbed to the top, loading picks in one hand and torches in the other. On the sides, a large shield with a dragon in the middle covered most of the space. The box was closed. There was no doubt that this was what they were looking for.

  Erion took the box and all the other objects, returned to the room and put everything on a table. Everyone in the group was excited to finally have found what they were looking for. They gave a quick look at the other objects and distributed them among the pouches. Erion explained the discovery of the other potions and they all agreed that he should keep them. With everything they had taken, there was hardly space in anyone's bag.

  “Mithir, I think it's time to use your bag,” Erion said, while his brother nodded. “Take what you can from the first chest.”

  They all followed Mithir curiously, who had just taken out a small bag with patches from one of the pockets of his robe. It looked quite old. They did not understand what they could do with it. Probably they would not have room to store more than two hundred gold coins. The magician stood in front of the first chest and began to take large handfuls of coins and put them in the sack. For some reason the sack never seemed full. The jingle of coins left no doubt that, really, the magician was depositing them in the small bundle. A while later the chest was already less than half full... and Mithir's bag still wasn't completely filled. It was unheard of.

  “How is this possible?” Ithelas asked curious.

  “Yes, please tell us,” Thost pleaded.

  The magician smiled but said nothing. They didn't know whether because his hands were busy picking coins up or because he really didn't want to answer them.

  “It's a container bag,” Samar explained suddenly.

  “A what?” the cleric said.

  “A container bag. You can put a lot more in than its physical condition can hold. Besides, its weight hardly varies. I think it has to do with most of the content actually transferring to another plane of existence. I've already seen one,” the elf added.

  Mithir was getting more and more coins in the bag when he finally stopped.

  “It's full,” he said by gestures, as he put the bag in his pouch.

  The magician had virtually emptied an entire chest. Meanwhile, Erion had opened the display cases and had put in a couple of cloths all jewelry that they had, and had saved them in the two outer pockets of his pouch. Finally, he went to the corner of the room where there was a large box with more paintings. He checked them one by one and chose three of them. With his knife he quickly removed them from their frames, rolled them up and also put them in his bag.

  They returned to the room. Erion glanced at all the pouches and concluded that there wouldn't be room for anything else. He then addressed Ithelas and asked about the status of the young woman.

  “She's weak. But she's not in danger,” the cleric said.

  “You think we can wake her?” Erion asked.

  “I don't think we can or, frankly, we shouldn't wake her now,” Ithela
s said.

  They made a mental review of all they had managed to take and concluded that they couldn't do much better. It was time to escape from that lost place from the hand of Oris. Although it would have been optimal for Thost to carry the young woman, his weakened state made it impossible. He could barely stand the weight he carried, even though they had placed in his bag the lighter objects. Erion placed the young woman on his shoulders with Ithelas' help. Fortunately, she was a thin girl. Still, walking represented a considerable effort for him.

  It was time to go. They left the basement, rising gently from the spiral staircase and, as they had discussed, they continued up and went straight to the tower. When they got there, an arrow whistled past their ears and reached Mithir, who fell to the ground resentful.

  “Take cover!” Ithelas asked, pointing to the east window.

  That window faced the other tower. The guardsmen had to be shooting from there. Everyone ran for cover. Erion briefly looked out the other window to observe the situation and then came back to the group. The cleric withdrew the arrow from Mithir's side and made some quick cures. The wound was still oozing blood. Unfortunately Ithelas had exhausted all his magical power and could not heal, so he had to apply two doses of healing ointment on the wound and then a bandage on it.

  “This will make you feel better; but, to the possible extent, you should avoid heavy physical exertion in the coming hours,” the cleric said.

  Soon they realized that the whole regiment of soldiers was on alert and were surrounding them and pointing from different angles of the parapet, the exterior of the castle and the other tower. With all the noise they had to do in the basement to fight off skeletons and zombies, it was impossible that the soldiers hadn't noticed their presence; they could even be considered fortunate that the castle area in which they were was hidden and was inaccessible from the area where the soldiers were. It would be extremely difficult and risky to get out of there. Then Mithir saw it clearly; this was the moment for which they had prepared.

  “Listen to me. I can get you out of here in one piece. But it will be difficult,” he said.

  “How are you going to do it?” Samar asked directly.

  “With magic, of course,” clarified Mithir. “But you're going to have to entrust your life to me. If anyone doubts and stays behind, I can’t do anything for that person.”

  The young magician paused and looked all of the group members as if trying to assess what was the degree of confidence that he had managed to establish with each of them.

  “We need to jump out the south window; jump high and out. And we must do it very close together, almost simultaneously. While we fall we must cover our flanks Thost and Ithelas' shields. It is possible that during the first moments the soldiers may shoot at us,” he explained.

  “But what are you saying? Have you gone mad?” Ithelas said.

  “No, not at all. He knows his stuff. He can take us to the valley below, in one piece. But you're going to have to blindly trust him,” Erion said.

  After a brief but intense debate and the fear of losing more time in that place finished convincing everyone to follow Mithir's plan. They had taken too long to find the box. If they took longer the vampires would return, and with almost their entire magical potential exhausted and their strongest warrior in poor condition, they would have no chance of survival.

  They stood close together, just as the magician asked. Erion was in the front, with the girl on his shoulders. The huge glassless window let them feel the cold breeze coming from the valley. He could see, about twelve steps below, the base of the cliff where several soldiers were waiting for them with their weapons ready. The ledge between the castle wall and emptiness was particularly narrow at that point; it was no more than two or three steps wide. They also saw their destination far below, the valley. Between the height of the ridge and the height of the tower where they were, there could be fifty to sixty steps. This was far more than any human being could survive under normal conditions. Erion instantly turned and looked at his brother's eyes. Then he smiled, ran to the window and jumped into the void.

  CHAPTER 10: LEAP INTO THE VOID

  After Erion's jump, Mithir followed almost immediately, with Ithelas and Thost on each side, raising their shields and trying to protect the group. Samar then jumped. When the moment of crossing the threshold of the window came, she hesitated only for an instant, and then jumped after them; therefore, as they fell, Samar was a little delayed from the group.

  Several arrows began to rain on them from different directions. Thost managed to stop two with his shield. The others, although they passed close by, did not reach them. They passed very close to the soldiers at the base of the cliff as they fell, but the trajectory of their jump took them away, directly into the valley. The speed of their fall began to accelerate significantly, and that was when, suddenly, the pace of the decline slowed. They continued to fall into the void, but did now at a steady pace and not an excessive one. It was very strange. Mithir was certainly responsible.

  They no longer felt arrows around them; the angle of their position had been left outside the scope of the archers guarding the castle. After a while, which seemed eternal to them, they saw the valley floor nearby. Erion landed deftly placing his feet first, slightly apart. While he landed, he finished braking with a brief run of four or five steps. This way he avoided any harm to the young woman he was carrying. Thost then fell and couldn't stand as he did, so he ended up prowling without serious consequences. Ithelas fell, however, in an unfavorable position to land without difficulty, his body slightly shifted toward the cliff. He hit himself. He got up shortly after and complaining of a sore hip. Mithir then landed without problems. He had the most appropriate position for landing. It was obvious that he had practiced the maneuver before. Despite his soft landing, the impact with the ground was about to reopen the wound in his side, which, fortunately, did not happen. Samar arrived a moment later, falling to the ground and giving a double somersault. She stood below, shaking dirt from her clothes.

  “Are you okay, Ithelas?” Mithir asked, seeing the grimace on the cleric's face.

  “I'm hurt, but it's nothing serious,” said the young man. “It was incredible. How...”

  “Take cover behind that bush,” urged Erion. “We are not safe here.”

  His friends responded immediately, following the young man and entering a group of large shrubs. Ithelas walked, but was visibly limping. Erion had thought to ask the young cleric to carry the young woman for a while, since his neck was starting to hurt. But he thought it would probably be asking too much, after the rugged fall he had had.

  “How are you? I see that you're limping. Can you get to the clearing?” Erion asked Ithelas.

  “Yes. But I can't go very fast. The place where we left our backpacks is not far, fortunately.”

  “Let's go; no time to lose,” said Thost while starting the march.

  This time, Thost and Samar led the way. They followed a slightly less direct route, to search all the protection they could, hiding in the vegetation. They tried to avoid offering a clear shot at the soldiers of the castle. At the same time, it was possible that a party of guards was descending into the valley to hunt them down. So they should leave immediately. They arrived a little later to the formation of trees where they had left their equipment. Although the place was, indeed, more or less close, Ithelas, Erion and Thost arrived almost exhausted. Thost still felt extremely weak, so getting there with a loaded pouch had been a great effort.

  At the back they saw the clearing where their backpacks waited for them. It really was not a matter of life or death to recover them, but they preferred not to leave any trace of their visit there. They wouldn't leave any chance of the soldiers discovering the equipment as this would give them clues on where and how to find them. Besides, that small clearing among a group of trees was the closest place where they could open the portal without raising any suspicion and escape from that cursed valley.

&
nbsp; They moved to the clearing. Erion was the first one to see their equipment against a tree. They had made it. They could almost smell Dreshpho's roast back in the mansion when Samar asked them to stop with an almost violent gesture. She made the sign for them to keep silence and then pointed to the opposite side of the clearing. Two tugrims rested peacefully near a tree. They felt the blood run cold. The whole group, under normal conditions, could have faced and overcome those two monsters. Surely they would have had some difficulty, but without any fatal injuries. However, the condition of the group was quite bad; they had exhausted virtually all their magical energy, they had no special ammunition, they were starving and thirsty, and several were wounded; they wouldn't stand a chance against the tugrims. They didn't even have the advantage of surprise. Samar could shoot and surprise the monsters, but her peculiar system of concealment made impossible to know the exact place where they were, let alone hit them with an arrow from a distance. Moreover, the tugrims were too close to their equipment, so they couldn't reach it without alerting the beasts.

  “Let's go back. Let's leave the equipment. It's very risky,” Samar said in a whisper.

  “Wait. Let me try something,” Mithir said with gestures.

  The young magician prepared the last spell of the day. It was a simple cantrip, one of the first spells he had learned long ago. Some dim lights, like several dragonflies of good size, appeared floating across the clearing, above the tugrims. The beasts were still asleep, resting. Mithir began to move the lights in ever-widening concentric circles around the image they saw of the beasts. Probably he'd have to put the lights above the animals to awaken them. So they'd have to reach the exact point where they were resting. Soon they saw like the images of the tugrims opened their eyes and looked up. It was strange, because over the two images of the beasts there was nothing, but at this point everyone understood what was happening. Mithir then began to move the lights slowly northward toward the castle. The beasts began to follow the lights and, after a while, there was no sign of them. Mithir, still guiding the lights further and further away, opened his eyes and smiled. He had exhausted all his magical energy. He wouldn't be able to even do the simplest spell until the following day.