by Dean Henegar
Having finished my meal, I sat there in contented fullness for a bit, enjoying the friendly banter and the antics of the children for a while before excusing myself. Duty called, and the armor voucher was burning a hole in my pocket. I also needed to check out the vendors and get my magic items identified before they closed for the night.
As I crossed by the bar I noticed Bhurke standing alone and nursing an ale. The guy had been an obnoxious fool, but I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, since he had lost everything. I also had no idea what the mercenary leader, Kofi, would do to him once he found he had lost his whole band.
“Bhurke, mind if I stand you for a meal and another ale,” I said while pulling up next to him at the bar. Bhurke looked at me and a flash of something…perhaps anger came over his features before he relaxed and then smiled, holding out his hand to shake with me.
“Lieutenant Raytak in the flesh. I’ve already eaten, but another drink would be welcome…as long as you’re joining me,” Bhurke said, while motioning for the barkeep to bring us a round.
As I paid for the drinks, I brought up what I hoped wasn’t a sticky situation. “Bhurke, I hate to ask, but what are your plans now? The army will always have a slot for you, and with your experience I could see you advancing quickly.”
Bhurke shook his head while taking a long pull on his ale before responding. “No, Raytak. I’ve given it a lot of thought and the mercenary life is what I’m suited for. I’ve decided to start my own band and do things my own way…not to mention keeping more of the coin for myself, instead of giving most of it back to some fat fool in the city. Kofi burned a lot of bridges with charging caravans more than they agreed to, and that leaves me the opportunity to cut into his business. Daegan has agreed to give me a chance even after...” Bhurke trailed off, still somewhat embarrassed over his previous behavior on the trail.
“I think this place could use an honest mercenary band, and I hope you’ll give us a bit of a discount if we ever need to hire you,” I said, remembering that many ancient armies used mercenaries to round out their forces.
“Ha! You’ll pay the same as everyone else…perhaps you should offer a bit extra, since you enlisted all my men into your little army. It will take me at least a week to gather enough sellswords to guard a caravan. Daegan said he’d give me the contract for his way back to Amerville, if I can be ready by the time he makes it back here after delivering you lot to wherever you’re headed.”
Bhurke was in quiet contemplation for a second and then began again. “I do have to admit, I was angry at you after the goblin battle…but I’m man enough to admit I was the one in the wrong. Should you ever need my band we’ll be called the Azure Blades and we’d be honored to fight alongside you again,” Bhurke said, and I found myself surprised. I didn’t think a game could have NPC’s that were not only highly detailed and realistic, but that could also reason and have the presence of mind to admit their faults…change their path in life, even.
“I just may have to call you one day, Bhurke. In the meantime, I need to get some things taken care of before we leave in the morning. Best of luck to you!” I said, excusing myself and making my way out of the tavern.
I didn’t notice how hot and stuffy the tavern had become until I exited into the cool, evening air. I headed back toward the garrison looking for the quartermaster and ended up having to ask a soldier standing guard to point me in the right direction. The quartermaster was housed in a small storage building a fraction of the size of the one in Amerville. Upon entering, I realized the difference was more than just the size. Whoever ran this place ran a tight ship. The supplies and gear were all organized into their proper places and placed neatly; not haphazardly thrown about like in that mess of a supply depot in Amerville.
“Sir, can I be of assistance?” a large half orc grumbled, while putting down some papers he was reading.
“I’m looking for the quartermaster. I have an armor voucher I need to cash in to get my soldiers equipped,” I said.
“I’m Sergeant Grobac, sir…the quartermaster here. I’d be glad to help you out.” Grobac held out his hand and I passed over the voucher. He scanned it for bit and then began sorting though some lists to find where the items we needed were kept. “Just give me a moment, sir. Looks like you’re being issued some standard leather armor. Not the strongest in the world, but it should help keep a blade from your skin. Just sign here and I’ll have the gear brought out to your men,” Grobac said, while handing me a form to sign. I grabbed the quill he offered, dipped it into the ink, and sloppily scrawled my signature on the form…looks like I still had poor penmanship, even in the game.
“That should do it, sir. Anything else I can help with?” Grobac asked.
“No, sergeant. Thank you for your help, and I must commend you on the way you’ve kept this place. I had a much different experience getting the starting gear for my forces,” I said and Grobac saluted as I left the supply building.
You have upgraded your forces armor to:
Crude Imperial light leather armor: +5 defense
Swiping past the armor upgrade notification, I remembered I had one last stop and headed toward the area I had seen the merchants gathering in earlier. The sounds of raised voices could be heard as I neared the merchant stall. It looked like all the merchants, save one, had closed for the evening and the last merchant was standing there being loudly berated by the caravan driver, Torgen.
“Ye bleedin’ cheat! You said these boots would let me outrun a dragon, and I couldn’t even outrun a couple of caravan drivers! You need to give me my coin back right now, including what I lost on the bet!” Torgen demanded. The merchant was a tall thin human man dressed in a fine quality blue mage’s robe. He had a disingenuous smile plastered on his face as he weathered the verbal onslaught from Torgen.
“Well now, my good friend. You see that is exactly the problem. You were racing caravan drivers and not a dragon. Should you find yourself faced with a dragon, I guarantee you will beat them in a footrace, or I will gladly refund your coin! Everyone knows Phineas T. Moore’s word is his bond. I never make a claim I’m not willing to back up with my rock-solid money back guarantee!” the merchant added. It was time for me to defuse this situation before it escalated.
“Torgen, how much did you pay for those boots?” I inquired. Torgen was startled at me showing up unexpectedly and at the same time, Phineas raised a curious eyebrow at my appearance.
“My good sir, this fine customer purchased the exceptional Boots of Dragon Racing for the low low price of only five silver. A bargain at half the price, really. You would think I would go broke selling them that low, but I make up for it in volume!” Phineas said with a flourish. This guy was a born huckster.
“Tell me, Torgen. I remember you needed boots and you did say these were comfortable. How much would a pair of good boots normally go for?” I inquired. Torgen thought about it for a few seconds.
“Well I suppose a pair of decent quality boots would sell for one silver…not five like this huckster charged!” Torgen added while raising his fist toward Phineas.
I pulled four silver from my purse and handed it to Torgen. “Here’s the difference. You needed a good pair of boots and got them. For the sake of peace in the Imperium, I’ll cover the difference. That should satisfy both parties,” I said. Torgen made his “humph” noise once more as he shook his head in agreement, pocketed his coin, and made his way back toward the caravan wagons.
“Well played, my good sir! You have defused the bellicose bumpkin and given us peace once again this evening. I’m sure you have come to see my famous wares, brought here from all around the lands…great treasures, gifts, and trinkets for a traveler. Feel free to ask me any questions, should they arise.” With a wave toward his wagon, Phineas stepped aside for me to look at what he was offering. His display consisted of a small wagon that had a hinged side that opened to reveal his wares. The open side held several shelves and compartments that were organized with vario
us things…mostly household goods and trinkets that would appeal to the folks riding in the caravans, or in the small towns nearby, but not much that interested me.
“I don’t have much need for your goods, but I was hoping that you maybe had the magic skill to identify some items for me,” I said, remembering the bracers and the foul spore that I had in my pack.
“Why, you have heard of me I see. The great Phineas T. Moore is a mage without peer…the “M” in Moore stands for mage after all! Show me your items and I’ll identify their abilities and origins for the nominal fee of twenty silver each.” Phineas held out his hand for the items, and for some reason the fee sounded very fair to me. I agreed, and paid Phineas while handing over the two items. Phineas grabbed the bracers first, covering them in in his hands while chanting quietly. A glow was seen between his hands and when he handed the bracers back to me I could see their stats.
Simple leather bracers of Agility /uncommon bracers/. +1 to defense, +1 to agility.
Not really something I could use, since I couldn’t benefit from stat improvements. Since I had the ability to create quests, I figured I could use it for a quest reward, or sell it if needed some more coin. Phineas grabbed the foul spore next, wincing a bit when he held it. He began to chant again, and the light grew in the hand that held the spore. It took him much longer this time and he looked drained a bit when he handed the Foul Spore back to me.
“That was unexpected sir. Usually to identify such a powerful and dangerous item, I would have charged ten times as much…but alas, a deal is a deal,” Phineas said while composing himself.
I checked the spore once again, now that it’s secrets were revealed.
The Foul Spore /epic artifact/ This item contains the imprisoned spirit of a corrupted Dryad. The spirit imprisoned within will always be seeking a way to escape. It will remain trapped in the Foul Spore until released by the one bound to the item. The possessor of the spore may communicate with the spirit inside and vice/versa. This communication will most often occur when in a dream-like state.
Effects: Grants +1 defense and +1 resistances to poison and disease.
That’s weird. Not sure why I would ever want to release that thing into the world again. Being bound to me, I can’t sell it either. At least the bonuses were ones that I could use.
I thanked Phineas for his services, while avoiding falling for any of his schemes to separate me from my coin. I spent the rest of the evening back in camp checking on my replacements and making sure everyone was fitted in the new armor.
The replacements and the extra squad also increased our number of standard soldiers to fifty. I would always have to be on the lookout for ways to recruit more soldiers. I also still hadn’t seen any of the so called “advanced troops” and had to hope the game would somehow unlock them for me at some point.
Chapter 25
Shortly after dawn, Daegan joined the sergeant and I to discuss the next leg of our journey.
“Good Morning Lieutenant Raytak, Sergeant Brooks. If your men are ready, I plan to get the wagons rolling in a few minutes. We’ll be a shorter wagon train group this time. Several of the wagons are staying here to meet up with other caravans before heading to their final destinations. That leaves us with twelve supply wagons, eight wagons with settlers, including the loggers, and your three wagons. I also have three extra wagons hauling food for us and feed for the animals, giving us twenty-six wagons that need protecting. I’ll leave it to you how to distribute your troops, but I’m assuming it will be easier since you have more soldiers and fewer wagons to guard. Once we’re through the transition point, there should be a small checkpoint manned by soldiers and then it’s a good day’s ride to the village. We should make it late this afternoon or early evening, if we hit some delays…depending of course on how quickly we get started,” Daegan told us, then went back to haranguing his drivers to get them ready.
“Sergeant Brooks, unless you have any objections, I say we split our three wagons with one in front, one in the middle of the column, and one at the rear with one squad each. We’ll distribute the other two squads among the other wagons where there is room,” I offered.
“Sir, that should work. I’d also see if any wagons have room enough to fit a section. If we run into trouble five-man teams give a bit more power to hold the line, than one or two soldiers dribbling into the fight.” The sergeant then looked a bit sheepish as he brought up the next item. “Sir, I also need some funds to buy rations for us. It should take about thirty silver to feed us for a couple of days, but I’d like to buy an extra few days food, at least, in case we run into trouble,” The sergeant added.
“Thank you, Sergeant. I almost forgot about that.” I was too used to the army providing rations. While handing the sergeant a gold piece, I remembered something else. “Get as much as you can with this. Any extra food we can just add to the garrison supply when we get there. I also want you to get an extra water skin for each man. I hate carrying extra weight, but fighting is thirsty work and I don’t want soldiers dropping from heat exhaustion if we’re in a protracted fight.” Sergeant Brooks agreed and then assigned several soldiers to hurry and gather the rations and water skins. All told, we made it just in time as Daegan ordered us into the transition. I rode in the front wagon with Daegan. I had offered the slot to Brooks, but he declined and wanted to ride in the last wagon with the new squad to get them squared away.
Like an uncoiling snake, the wagons left the staging area and formed a column. Daegan seemed unconcerned in the wagon next to me as we entered the shimmering light.
You have entered the Amerville zone transition point. You know no other locations and can only travel to the zone directly connected to this point (Hayden’s Knoll). Do you wish to proceed? Y/N
I selected yes, and the light engulfed us briefly, Daegan stated we would enter a dream-like state for about two to three minutes while we fast-traveled to the next zone. While in this state, I could hear a voice inside my head. The foul spore dryad was now able to communicate with me while in this dream state.
“Life-stealer and plant-killer…why do you imprison me? Release me, that I may, once again, bring balance to the forests.”
Not sure what to do, I tried to respond. “Why would I release you? You would just try to kill me once again…you do recall that you killed me, right?” I asked.
“Yes…release me that I may kill you once again. I can release you from your dreamless state and, once again, spread the new forests around the lands.”
“You’re really not helping your case here. I’m still sensing a mindless, murdering, corrupt forest creature vibe from you. I’m dreamless. What kind of insult is that…oh, you mean because I don’t sleep in game. That’s the only way you can communicate, isn’t it? Well, unless I’m transitioning to a new zone, I don’t have to hear your babble. I thank you for the buffs from your creepy seed spore thing though. It’ll come in handy. You have about sixty seconds left before we hit the new zone, darlin’. Make them count,” I taunted, sick of her rambling.
You don’t wish release from your dreamless state? Perhaps I can help you in return for being reborn? Release me and I will no longer trouble you, or yours. I will even offer a lifepact, if I must. This existence is torture…release me, PLEASE!”
The time counted down as she continued to plead with me to release her…lifepact was something I hadn’t heard before, and I decided to look it up in the help screen.
Lifepact: An absolute oath in the Limitless Lands. Two beings must both agree to the terms of the pact. To break a lifepact is one of the most grievous of crimes in the lands, causing instant enmity between you and all other sentient beings. You will be inflicted with the Pactbreaker debuff which slowly and painfully kills its victim.
While the lifepact seemed a solid way to guarantee the foul spore dryad didn’t go on a murder spree again, I couldn’t see a reason to take the chance to release it back into the world. I’ll just keep the spore on me for the buff and suffer h
er rantings when I have to transition between zones.
The countdown reached zero and the swirling lights began again. The wagons moved out of the portal into the new zone. Bright daylight greeted us, and the air was warm, but noticeably cooler than the Amerville zone. We were on top of a small hill and behind us, to the south, impassable mountains rose up bordering the zone, broken only by the swirling transition point portal. A well-kept dirt road led roughly north through rolling hills, broken by the occasional patch of small trees, or a rock formation. There were no elaborate defenses or forts on this side, only a small rickety wooden watchtower and what appeared to be an understrength squad of Imperial soldiers. The soldiers didn’t even notice our wagons emerging as they had their weapons drawn at two cowering goblins while the trader Phineas T. Moore placed himself between the goblins and pleaded for mercy.
“You cannot harm these two, they’re my assistants…where else can I get someone to work for free…err, I mean, work so diligently and honestly? Don’t you realize this was once the great goblin chief Bugtug and his son Kipkip? They’re one of my best-selling attractions. You’ll put a serious dent in my financial well-being if you harm them. I demand to speak with your superior officer!” Phineas simultaneously pleaded and threatened.
“Sir! Step away now! We can’t have these goblins running about. We have enough trouble already with the raiders and such. Why would we want to bring a goblin chief into the mix? Move aside and I’ll finish him quick and painless for you,” one of the soldiers commanded.
Unfortunately, it looked like I would have to intervene. I hopped off the lead wagon and ran ahead to the altercation, First Squad, in the wagon behind, quickly joining me.
“Stand down, soldier. What’s going on here?” I inquired.
“Sir! I didn’t realize you would be arriving today. Not a day too soon, with all the trouble we’ve had. This here trader comes through the portal thirty minutes ago and tries to sell us some junk…” the soldier began.