“I’d say that about does it,” said Heath.
“Not quite,” I said. I wouldn’t have been sad to see Heath leave, but he had proven himself useful. “There is that door in the living room, still. I now have the two crystals needed to open it.”
“Lead on, mate,” said Heath, in his bad British accent. I could imagine Olaf and Micaela would hate the way this guy was butchering their natural accents.
I was considerably more relaxed, as I headed for the last door. I was a little nervous after I inserted the first crystal, but when nothing happened, I added the second, causing the glowing door to fade. I then tried the door, only to find out it was locked tight.
Again, without asking, Heath went to work on the lock, this one seemed to be easier than the desk because it clicked open in just seconds. I opened the door, but there was no glow of a trap to be seen. Inside the closet, the floor had been hacked out, revealing a hole in the ground. A ladder extended into darkness, below the house.
Heath appeared next to me moment later, holding a lit oil lamp, the same one that had been on the living room end table.
“After you,” I said, motioning for him to go first.
“Nah, you got this mate, I’ll hold the light,” he replied.
I rolled my eyes but started descending the ladder anyway. It was maybe a twenty-foot climb down, about halfway, the tunnel changed from dirt to hard stone. At the bottom of the ladder was a small cavern. I couldn’t see anything around me, there just wasn’t enough light.
“Bring the light down, I can’t see anything,” I shouted up the hole.
“Is it safe?” Heath called back.
“I can’t see anything, I don’t know. Just climb down already,” I shouted back up. If there was anything down here, I’m sure it would have attacked me by now.
Heath’s footsteps sounded against the ladder as he climbed down, the sound filling the cavern easily. The closer he got to me, the more light filled the cavern. Eventually, he arrived. The oil lamp he carried, now illuminating the small cavern. There wasn’t much too it. A large chest to the left, and to the right was what I thought was the acid pool responsible for killing me a few days ago. Last, there was a small altar straight ahead.
“Ooh, treasure,” said Heath, moving straight to the chest.
“I thought you didn’t steal?” I asked him.
“I don’t steal from innocent people. Anyone that would boobytrap a chair to explode is not innocent,” he retorted.
“I don’t see any traps, so I think it’s safe. Just remember, I get the first pick of gear and 75% of the money if there is any,” I claimed.
“Now, wait just a tick, mate. Why do you get so much?” Heath asked.
“I’ve done most of the work. I disarmed the traps, and I saved you, from getting blown to bits.”
“I guess I’ve got to give it to you, mate,” Heath said reluctantly, moving with more confidence now, working on opening the chest.
While Heath was working on opening the chest, I moved to study the altar. It was covered in symbols I’ve never seen before. On top, sat a small bowl, filled with what I believed to be dried blood. I couldn’t make out anything from the writing, so I pulled out a sheet of drawing paper and sketched the altar and the symbols. I would need to take this to Trinico, hopefully, she would know more.
“Bugger,” said Heath, from by the chest. It was open, but there was only a pile of robes inside.
I move to look closer, picking up one of the robes. They smelled musty, they must have been in that chest for a long, long time. ‘Cult of Hellgrind Ceremonial Robes’, the tooltip prompted. That sounded bad to me. I put one of the robes in my bag, I’d have to ask Trinico about them too.
One more check of the chest revealed more of those robes, but nothing of value.
“Time to go,” I said finally. I was half tempted to burn all of this, but I figured, it would be better if someone with real authority, decided the best thing to do with this place.
When I finally left the house behind, it was to a combination of cheers and boos, and even more, money changing hands. There were more when Heath emerged behind me.
“Come on, Jack. I was counting on you dying for me, at least once,” said Rose, stomping up to me.
“Gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically.
“Well hello, and who is this beautiful young woman?” asked Heath, moving in to get a closer look at Rose.
“Where?” I asked, getting punched in the arm, by a blushing Rose. For some reason, I had an irrational desire, to pass that punch onto Heath.
“Shush, Jack, let the man adore me,” said Rose. “Hello, I’m Rose.”
“A beautiful name for a beautiful flower,” said Heath.
It had to be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard, yet it reduced Rose to a blushing mess.
“Rose, we’d better go get the others. We need to see the sergeant and Trinico, to go over what I’ve found,” I said, trying to steer her away from this Heath guy, for her own sake. The man was a menace.
“Now, now, no need to rush off. Rose and I were just getting to know each other,” protested Heath.
“Yeah, we were just getting to know each other,” added Rose.
“Heath, we’ll be having dinner at Dog House Inn tonight, sometime after 6:00, why don’t you meet us there? Right now, we need to get going,” I said, trying harder to move us along.
“Oi, Bye-bye, I just made 5-Gold betting on you. Thanks,” Micaela said, her accent as real as can be.
“Glad to see you had faith in me, unlike some people,” I added glaring at Rose. “Anyway, we need to get the others, then go find Sergeant Butters and Priestess Trinico.”
“I had plenty of faith in you,” defended Rose. “Faith that you’d die at least once, and it seems, that faith was misplaced. You lived.”
“You know, if he can’t appreciate a delicate flower such as yourself, I’d be happy to keep you company,” said Heath, subtly moving closer to her.
“What the bloody hell is that accent?” asked Micaela.
I could not help but thank my Goddess for Micaela’s timely interruption, and for possibly, saving Rose from the wannabe rock’n’roller.
“Please tell me, your roleplaying behind, doesn’t seriously think that’s a decent British accent?” asked Micaela, staring at Heath in disapproval.
Micaela to the rescue. “Now Micaela, he did mention this is a game, and if he wants to be a British rocker, then who are we, to get in the way of that. Besides, Rose appears to be enjoying the company.”
“Oh, Rosie, please say it ain’t so,” begged Micaela. “Don’t fall for this wanker’s bad accent and bad boy attitude.”
“Really, it’s fake?” asked Rose, looking at Micaela then at Heath and back again.
“Yes, my dear, completely false,” said Micaela, assuring her.
“Alas, our love was not meant to be,” said Heath, making a less than graceful departure.
“See, total wanker,” said Micaela, watching the man’s rapid retreat.
“Too bad, he might have been fun for a night,” said Rose before shrugging. “I suppose we’d best get to whatever urgent mission, Jack here, was complaining about before.”
And once again, everything was right in the world.
Chapter 30
After agreeing to meet at the temple, we split up again. Micaela went to find Olaf, while Rose went outside of town to get Baby, and I went to get Sergeant Butters.
“Bye-bye, what can I do for you?” asked Sergeant Butters, seeing me approach. Given, I had just passed his tired looking soldiers, it was safe to assume, he was done training them for the day.
“I was finally able to investigate Graves’s house. We’re all meeting up at the temple, as soon as possible. I was hoping you would come to hear what we’ve found,” I explained.
“Alright, I’ll meet you there shortly, need to clean up first,” he replied.
I could only nod before he was moving quickly into the barrack
s and out of sight. Rather, than head back immediately, I decided to stop into the mayor’s office, figuring he might be able to help me out or even join in on the conversation at the temple.
“Bye-bye, how are you doing, son?” the mayor asked with a friendly smile.
“Doing well. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m kind of in a hurry. Have you ever seen this writing before?” I asked him, showing him the sketch of the altar.
“No worries, no worries. Let us see what you have got there,” Mayor Semper replied, studying the drawing. “Hmm, not sure, I’m afraid I can’t read this. Trini would know more,” he offered. “Why do you ask? Where did you find it?”
“Under Graves’s house. He had an altar covered in it,” I answered.
“Well now, that does pose a problem. I suppose we should go see Trini and see what she thinks,” the mayor said.
“I was going there next, but I figured I’d see if I could get a book on this language first,” I explained.
“I am afraid, I do not recognize this language, it may be written by one of the lost ones or their followers,” the mayor said.
“Lost ones?” I asked.
“Lost gods and goddesses. Those who grew bitter and angry with their domains and revolted against their pantheons. They were cast out, shamed and stripped of their domains. But once a god, always a god, except now they had nothing to hold them back. All manner of cults and religions sprung up from them and caused all sorts of havoc,” Mayor Simper explained.
“Was the Cult of Hellgrind one of them?” I asked.
“I could not say. Once again, we need to ask Trinico,” he said again.
I accepted the mayor’s judgment and followed him to the temple. Everyone except for Rose and Baby had gathered.
“Just waiting for Baby and Rose,” I said, wanting to wait for them to arrive before we got started.
“We’re here,” said a slightly winded Rose. With everyone present and accounted for, we moved into Trinico’s office.
“Okay, so I finally got to investigate Graves’s house. There were so many traps,” I started, trying to lighten the mood, but it appeared none of the citizens were in the mood for it. “Right, first, I found these land titles going back to founding the village.” I set the envelope on Trinico’s desk.
The mayor took the envelope and emptied out the contents.
“It’s all for a plot of land to the northwest of town. Each time the ownership has changed hands, there was a new deed printed. And while it changed ownership several times, the old owner and the new owner, have the same handwriting. I think it’s all the same person, Graves,” I explained.
“It lines up,” said the mayor.
“What concerns me, is this land plot covers the entirety of the old runes,” added Butters, looking at one of the deeds.
“I’m more concerned about this,” I took out the robes. “Have any of you ever heard of the ‘Cult of Hellgrind’?”
Sergeant Butters stood sharply and backed away, spitting at the robes.
Trinico immediately began chanting under her breath causing a bubble of light to surround the robes. When it faded, she spoke. “It is clean David. There is no magic present on these robes.”
“Are we too late?” the sergeant asked, I could hear worry in his voice.
“No, there was never any magic on these,” said Trinico.
Sergeant Butters visibly calmed, sagging in relief upon hearing those words.
“Mind explaining the overreaction?” asked Rose.
“Overreaction my grizzled hide,” spat Sergeant Butters. “If anything, my reaction was an underreaction. Getting old, bites.”
“So, you’ve heard of the Cult of Hellgrind?” I asked, trying to get the conversation back on target.
“Remember the story of the demon incursion, we told you of?” asked Trinico.
The thought instantly making me feel slightly sick at what I expected she was about to reveal.
I nodded slowly.
“The Cult of Hellgrind are the ones responsible,” stated the priestess.
“Okay, so, I know I’m new here an all, but a demon incursion doesn’t sound good,” said a voice with a bad British accent.
I recognized the voice but didn’t understand what it was doing here.
“Heath?” I asked. I was confused even as I turned and saw the thief, leaning against the wall casually.
“Hey, mate,” Heath greeted me. “So, demon incursion, bad thing yeah?”
“Heath?” I questioned again. When did he get here? How did he get here? Why the devil was he here?
“Yeah, you need something, mate?” Heath asked.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, nearly shouting.
“Well, I saw that pretty thing running through town, and I thought to myself, Heath old son, that is one fine lass, wouldn’t do you no harm to give her a second shot. So, I followed her. But when I saw she had a daughter, I was going to bugger off, don’t need that drama, if you know what I mean. But then I saw all these important people, and it seemed kind of serious, and I thought there might be a pinch of excitement, so I just followed along,” Heath explained.
Micaela snorted and tried hard not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. Poor Baby looked absolutely mortified. Olaf looked about as confused, as I felt. But Rose . . . Rose was bright red. I didn’t know if she was embarrassed or blushing. Then she pounced on Heath. Her metal-clad fist, making a resounding gong, as it impacted with Heath’s head sending him on a quick trip to dreamland, an ‘Unconscious’ debuff now present. But she didn’t stop there, kicking him hard, while he was down, a gasp and a squeak, escaping him. Ah, she was mad, I made a mental note of that shade of red, for future reference.
Finally, Rose turned back to the group. “What?” she snapped at all of us wide-eyed onlookers.
“Nothing, nothing at all,” was the general reply, no one dared to look at her.
“She beat me to it,” whispered Sergeant Butters softly, I could barely hear him, but apparently Micaela heard, and was once more laughing loudly.
“So . . . do we just leave him?” asked Olaf, now that Micaela had broken the tension.
“I hate to say this,” started Trinico. “But a thief, of his skill, might prove useful to you. If he was able to sneak in here, past both David and I, then he has real talent. Even if he is scum. Perhaps one of the gods or goddesses will curse him with impotence for such behavior. We shall all have to pray, yes? But for now, perhaps, we should wake him.” She then mumbled a spell causing a ball of water to form in the air above him and suddenly drop.
Heath was upright in an instant. “Anyone see a gorilla around here. I could have sworn, one just attacked me.”
I moved quickly, attempting to hold Rose back, though I was mighty tempted to let her attack him. “Not the time,” I said softly to her, it seemed to work as she backed off. She stood back and crossed her arms while glaring at him.
“We’ve gotten sidetracked here. Please, Trinico, tell us more,” I tried to steer the conversation back on target.
“The demon incursion that hurt my David so badly, that nearly destroyed the World Tree, was instigated by the Cult of Hellgrind, believers in one of the fallen ones,” explained Trinico sadly, glancing briefly at her husband.
“But which?” I asked.
“We do not know, we were never able to question any of their followers,” answered Trinico. “When we found the cultist’s base, when we moved to stop them and close the portals, they chose death. Every man, woman, and child either took their own life or died on the battlefield. It was truly dark times.”
“Okay, so Graves is either a member of the cult or the fallen one himself. If so, what’s his angle? Why does he keep coming back to this town? What is he looking to accomplish?” I asked, thinking aloud.
“He’s lonely,” said Micaela. “He said it before he fled. He said he was going to make us all immortal.”
“Okay, so how would he do that?” I asked, then look
ing to the mayor. “You said you couldn’t read the symbols on the altar, but do they look similar to those at the ruins?”
“Well . . . only similar in that they cannot be read. I see the symbols, and part of me recognizes them, but then it gets kind of blurry, and I cannot remember what they are. It is like having a word at the tip of your tongue. It is the same for all the citizens of the World Tree, I should think.
“I don’t see a blur,” I reply, the symbols or letters look clear to me, I just don’t have a language to reference.
“You do not?” asked Trinico, surprise, clear in her voice. She rushed quickly across the room to a bookshelf, removing several tomes. She rushed back just as quickly, setting them down in front of me. “Look, which of these books does the language match?”
I frowned at how harried she seemed but did as she asked. I opened the first book and shook my head no. I opened the next and again no. The fifth book I checked was closest. “Does this look like it to you guys?” I asked, the symbols looked alike to me, but a second opinion never hurt.
Olaf looked over my shoulder. “No idea, it’s all blurry to me.”
“Me too,” said Micaela.
“No clue, mate,” said Heath.
“They look the same to me,” said Rose, standing next to me.
I looked at Baby who only shook her head. It was only me and Rose able to read the symbols.
“Lore,” Rose and I said at the same time.
“That’s the only thing we both have in common. ‘Lore’ lets us see the writings, of the lost ones, in their original language,” I elaborated.
“Norse, you must learn Norse,” said Trinico, picking up the book. She then took two blank scrolls from her drawer and began writing. I recognized the writing as Runes.
“She may be a while. A whole language is not exactly a small bit of knowledge,” warned the sergeant.
“So, how does all this work?” asked Heath.
“How does what work?” I asked.
“Before that,” said Olaf, sounding gravely serious. “Stop polluting my accent, you wanker.”
The Curse of Hurlig Ridge_World Tree Online_1st Dive Page 50