The Blade Guardian

by Darren Hultberg Jr

  The item that the man was showing off was a finely crafted weapon... a blade that I had laid eyes on before. In that bastard’s grasp was Hilda’s blade, Dragon Dance.

  14

  Bar Fight!

  “You bastard,” I muttered as I trudged towards the man. He was toting her blade around as if he had pried it from the clutches of some dungeon beast, as if he’d earned the weapon himself.... It didn’t look nearly as impressive in the hands of this thief, its flames dissipated, and its luster gone. No, this weapon was soulbound to Hilda, and only in her hands could it shine. Still, that didn’t stop him from flaunting it… dammit all, if he had done anything to hurt her, then I was going to shove that blade down his throat!

  “Adam, what are you doing?” my father called out, his voice trailing as the anger began to overtake my other thoughts. I could feel Kord’s trepidation prodding at my emotions and Razyr’s sense of justice trying to calm my nerves, but it was no use. Right now, I was channeling the draconic fury of Salence.

  With fists clenched at my sides, I forced myself into the small circle of men until I was face-to-face with the sword wielder. To my left stood a half-drunk human and a scruffy-looking dwarf, and to my right was a pair of what I could only assume were half-elves, and each of them had their eyes locked on me.

  Casually, the man with the blade placed his back against the wooden bar and shot me a disarming glance. “Can I help you, boy?” he asked, putting extra emphasis on the boy part and rousing a chuckle from the pair on the left.

  “Where the hell did you get that sword,” I growled, using every bit of restraint I had to keep from reaching out and throttling the fool.

  “Found it in a dungeon,” he said calmly. “Snatched it right out of some filthy creature’s hoard.” A few of the other men crossed their arms, as if they were just waiting for me to refute his statement.

  “Liar!” I shot back, taking another step in the man’s direction. “I know the true owner of that blade. Where is the woman you took that sword from? What did you do to her?”

  The man shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Like I said, I found this blade in a dungeon’s treasure hoard. Only thing that makes sense to me is that girl you’re talkin bout met her end somewhere in the halls of the dungeon, which would make this blade fair game.”

  I met the man’s gaze with a furious stare, but he remained cool and calm as he stared back at me. This bastard was lying... I just knew he was. I could feel it in my bones. Still, I had to find a way to prove it.

  The four other men surrounding us began to move in as they sensed the tension in the air begin to rise. Likewise, Thamriul and my father rose from their seats and began to approach the area, concern etched into each of their expressions.

  Dammit all, I couldn’t just attack this man without proof, especially if I didn’t want to end up in prison... again. My eyes scanned the blade, then the man’s torso, searching for a clue, for anything that would....

  I froze as my gaze rested on a symbol tattooed into the man’s neck. Previously it had been hidden under the collar of his shirt, but a slight shift in the man’s posture had left the symbol revealed for all to see... a pair of coins split by a single dagger. This man, this liar, was part of the goddamned thieves’ guild!

  My anger boiled over as Salence entered my back as a ball of light. I no longer considered the consequences of what I was about to do, not for a single second. This bastard had done something to Hilda, had stolen her blade... and I was going to beat the truth out of him.

  “Now just wait a—” Those were all the words the thief got out before my fist connected perfectly with his right cheek, snapping his head back and sending his body crashing into the bar. His drunk human friend immediately lunged at me with a wobbly fist, but I easily ducked the blow, hooking the man under the arm and hoisting him into the air with Salence’s boost in strength. With a mighty toss, I flung the spindly man several feet into the air, sending him crashing through a table occupied by a trio of inebriated dwarves. One of them immediately stood up, stumbled to the left and cracked an unsuspecting man over the head with his drink. Chaos began to erupt as tavern-goers took rise from their seats and let the alcohol take control of their actions.

  It was on... bar fight!

  The pair of half-elves began an attack from behind, bludgeoning my back and my head with their fists as they attempted to force me to the ground. Instincts took over as I ducked away before throwing my right foot into the air, crushing one of the half-elves with a well-placed side kick.

  My father leapt in to intercept the other half-elf, scooping him up in a bear hug before suplexing him onto the top of the bar. Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass met my ear, causing me to turn around and meet my newest attacker.

  The scruffy-looking dwarf, the fourth and final companion of the thief, now approached. In his hand he held an empty bottle of wine by its neck, the end shattered to create a series of sharp, gleaming points.

  “I’m gonna bleed ya out, boy,” the dwarf threatened before taking a feigned jab in my direction with the broken glass. Perhaps he thought he was going to scare me into backing off, but all he managed to do was show me just how slow his movements were... and I was all speed.

  The dwarf lunged in again with the glass, this time fully extending as he tried to slash away at my stomach. I easily dodged the blow, stepping back just out of range as I grabbed on to the dwarf’s wrist. With a quick show of force, I slammed his hand into the side of the bar, loosening his grip on the broken bottle until it fell to the floor. The dwarf growled in anger before swiping at me with his free hand, but again I was just too damn fast.

  I released his wrist and took a step back, avoiding his reach as he grabbed nothing but air. Then, with movements too quick for him to follow, I reached forward and grabbed the dwarf by his god-forsaken beard.

  “Let that go!” he howled as I gave the scraggly hair a yank, then again nearly pulling the dwarf off his feet. Before he could get his hands on me, I yanked down on his beard as I simultaneously thrust my knee upward, connecting with the drunkard’s hairy chin.

  The word “stunned” flashed over his head as his body went limp before crashing into the wooden floor.

  “Everybody on the ground, now!” came the shouts from a group of Tidecaller guards as they entered the tavern, hooked tridents in their grasp. Dammit, I couldn’t afford to deal with the local authorities... not with Hilda so close!

  As the guards filtered into the tavern and began breaking up fights, I scanned for the errant sword thief. It had only been a moment since things had taken a turn for the worse. He had to be in the tavern somewhere...

  There! With a look of fear, the thief glanced in my direction before hopping the bar and scampering into the back room, yanking a frail wooden door closed behind him. If he thought he would be getting away that easy, then this fool had another thing coming.

  I leapt the bar in pursuit of the thief, ignoring the calls of the guards as they made their way through the ruckus.

  “Get back here!” I yelled, bursting through the flimsy wooden door that led to a steep set of stairs. Without hesitating I leaped down the staircase, landing on the stone below with a thud. My knees groaned in protest and the soles of my feet burned with the pain from the jump, but my HP loss was nearly unnoticeable, so I continued pursuit.

  As I entered the lower level, I spotted giant metal racks sporting wooden barrels of wine lining either side room. A pungent, fruity smell permeated the air as I made my way between the racks, along with the distinct smell of alcohol. He’d fled to the wine cellar... I had him trapped.

  Without hesitation, I activated my skill master of the hunt. Suddenly, the soft glow of past footsteps illuminated in my vision, along with a faint movement in the air. The footsteps seemed to dart all around the cellar, though exactly where they stopped was indistinguishable. I was certain he was down here somewhere, but where… If only I’d increased my skill past rank 2, then I migh
t be able to pinpoint his exact location.

  With haste, I darted to the end of the cellar and made my way around one of the racks, expecting to see the man on the other side, but was met with nothing but a plain stone wall.

  A scraping sound caught my ear, so I spun on my heel, simultaneously calling nevermore into my grasp. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the thief.

  “Razyr?” I asked, immediately feeling a bit of shame as I realized I had left the drake behind upstairs.

  “You left me... with the drunks,” he growled as Kord appeared by his side and let out a disapproving croak.

  “Sorry, guys,” I said, before rushing past the two familiars and darting across to the other side of the cellar. That man was my only tie to Hilda... I had to find him!

  After a moment of searching, I quickly came to the conclusion that the cellar was empty... but how? I’d kept my eyes on the stairs, so he couldn’t have fled back to the bar, and my tracking skill sure as hell didn’t lie... Dammit all, what was going on?

  I began to make a second pass through the cellar when I noticed Kord doing something strange to one of the oversized wine barrels. The nature familiar had latched his long tongue to the barrel’s handle and had proceeded to yank with all his might, nearly pulling the lid ajar.

  “Kord!” I yelled, dashing over to put a stop to the overly curious creature. If he happened to pull the lid off of a barrel that size, then we’d surely be drenched in.... I paused as a look of astonishment stretched across my face. The lid to the giant wine barrel flung open, but not a single drop of wine spilled out. Instead, I found myself looking into an empty barrel that housed some sort of secret passage, a small opening with a ladder leading further into the city’s depths.

  Just then I turned to the nature familiar and shot him an apologetic look. “You know Kord, I could kiss you right now.” And though the frog was surely no prince, he responded with an emphatic croak.

  I took a final look at the staircase leading back up to the tavern. My father had likely got caught up in the commotion caused by the arrival of the guard. No matter.... I was fast. In moments I’d chase down that damned thief and wrestle Hilda’s whereabouts from him. Then I’d grab my father and Tham and we could spring her out together.

  A growing warmth from Salence’s dragon Aether told me he agreed with that plan. I rather enjoyed maintaining a bond with the dragon familiar. It was empowering, to say the least.

  With little time to spare, I gathered Kord and Razyr onto my shoulders, and together we descended the ladder into the city’s depths.

  ><><

  Morose walked with purpose through the rows of containment chambers, eyes darting eyes darting back and forth as he eyed the contents of each chamber. Inside each glass shell sat a Sprite, a small manifestation of Aether ripped from the clutches of their bonded heroes, their energy drained to fuel his master’s dark desires.

  “It appears that the sprites have remained stable, at least for now,” a tall, gaunt man said as he rushed to reach Morose’s side. “As long we keep their bonded imprisoned nearby, these sprites should continue to fuel all of the Aether you need for, a.... whatever it is that you’re doing.” The man shifted uncomfortably as Morose glanced his way before rubbing his sweaty palms across his many-pocketed alchemist’s jacket.

  “Good,” Morose finally replied. “Inform me the moment anything changes. Vexes requires a sustainable source of Aether, and I will not be the one to feel his wrath if this fails.”

  “Y-yes sir,” the man responded, stiffening as Morose turned to exit the room. Suddenly, the door to the chamber burst open as a member of the raven guard charged in.

  “Sir!” he hollered, correcting his posture and giving the assassin a stiff salute. “He’s been spotted by one of our ravens, in the city of Yggrash... Tidecaller territory.”

  “Who?” Morose asked, though he was certain he already knew the answer to the question.

  The raven guard took a loud gulp before responding. “Zander Darkblade, sir.”

  Morose clenched his fists as the man’s name entered his ears. That damned elusive slayer... the one who had turned his back to him, who’d turned his back on a chance of real power.

  “Go,” Morose hissed. “Get my strike force ready.”

  The guard nodded. “Should I give them any specific instructions, sir?”

  “Yes,” the assassin replied. “Tell them to come fully armed, to meet me at the front gate... Tell them we’re going hunting.”

  15

  The thrill of the Hunt

  I landed in a crouch as my boots hit the floor, taking care to make as little noise as possible. I wasn’t sure what I was walking into, but I had the element of surprise and I fully intended to keep it.

  I gave myself a quick look over before proceeding forward. Unfortunately, my damaged armor was still strapped to Horus, so I was feeling more than a little vulnerable. Currently, I wore the tall leather boots and dark trousers from my dress attire but had substituted the blue overcoat for a plain black, cotton shirt. I also kept my raven cloak on, if only for the slight magickal boost in dexterity it offered. I might’ve been done with Ravenflight, but dammit all, that didn’t mean I had to give up the stuff they’d gifted me.

  Up ahead was what appeared to be a rather long stretching tunnel, with sconces lining either side of the stone wall. Small bits of magickkal blue flame danced in the sconces, illuminating the hall with an unnaturally bright glow. It was evident that this wasn’t just some ordinary cellar. No, this was an expertly crafted tunnel somehow built right in the depths of the marshes!

  “Zander, I sense something down here... old magickk.”

  “Of course, you do,” I replied before letting out a lengthy sigh. It just couldn’t be as easy as chasing down a thief, getting the blade back and rescuing the girl. No, there just had to be a secret underground lair beneath the wine cellar filled with who knows what...

  Still determined to find the man quickly, I paced down the long stone hall, keeping close to the wall in case the thief had a surprise or two waiting for me. My mind immediately thought back to those old-school dungeon games, with halls filled with trapdoors and spike traps and the always-popular giant descending boulder. Thankfully, this did not appear to be one of those places.

  Eventually the hall ended, emptying out into a large circular room with walls of stone and lavish red carpets decorating the stone floor. An open doorway lay adjacent to me on either side of the room, while directly in front of me sat a large pair of iron doors... and leaning on those doors was none other than the elusive sword thief.

  “You idiot,” he spat, a wide grin stretching across on his face despite the swelling in his cheek from where I punched him. “I can’t believe you followed me down here... Ah well, at least we can drain those sprites of yours, and I’m certain that cloak you’re wearing will fetch a coin or two.”

  “You’ll have nothing,” I said, walking defiantly into the center of the room. “Now I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is—”

  “You’ll ask me nothing, slayer,” the thief interrupted. “Now, farewell.”

  Without hesitating, the thief yanked open one of the iron doors and began to slip his way inside. Once again, he was trying to flee, but I didn’t plan on letting that happen.

  I tried to throw a slayer’s mark onto the man, planning to shadowshift to his position and cut him down, but for some reason the damn skill failed! The word “dispelled” hung over my head for a second before fading from view as a ring on the man’s finger shined with a faint glint. Then with a wry grin he slammed the iron door shut, once again leaving me just a step behind.

  Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why the hell was I having such a hard time chasing this guy down? Hilda’s life could very well be on the line!

  “Focus... Zander. We can do this,” Razyr said, clearly recognizing my frustration.

  “You’re right,” I replied, actively working to keep my emotions in check. “Let’s just bust this door dow
n and—”

  “Oh you’re not going anywhere, little man,” a voice hollered, interrupting me for what seemed like the hundredth time.

  I paused, letting out another sigh before peering down the hallway to the left. Approaching was a trio of men, two humans and one burly half-ogre, each strapped in leather armor with iron blades dangling at their sides. I gave them a quick inspection.

  Burnes

  Lvl 19 Rogue

  Zeb

  Lvl 22 Rogue

  Bruno

  Half-Ogre

  Lvl 35 Barbarian

  Each of them wore the symbol of the thieves’ guild proudly on their leather armor, a sure sign that I’d stumbled into one of their strongholds.

  “Behind you,” Razyr whispered, signaling to me that a fourth member of the guild approached from the opposite hall. I nodded, and he and Kord turned to face the last assailant. They’d be able to at least keep him busy while I took care of the other three.

  “Look guys,” I said, trying to remain calm. I knew reasoning with these guys was futile, but I just couldn’t help but try. “I’m just here to—”

  “We know who you are. You are the one who stole what was stolen. You dishonored our guild mates in Airrigar.”

  My eyes went wide with disbelief. “You can’t be serious?! You mean the festival in Airrigar? Your buddies tried to take my money. I only retrieved what was taken from me!”

  The thief, Zeb, nodded as if he agreed with what I was saying, but the sour look on his scarred-up face said otherwise. “That may be, but stealing back an item that was stolen by a member of the thieves’ guild is the ultimate dishonor. It is the greatest slap in the face any man can give to one of ours. Your actions have made us look weak… Unfortunately, we cannot let you live.”

  They could not be serious… they’d stolen from me first. These damned idiots! I shook my head as I began to approach the man, odds be damned. “Oh, you better hope I don’t survive this,” I growled, shadows beginning to swirl in my palm.