by Adam Drake
Rob stood frozen in the entryway, staring in disbelief. A flame of anger blossomed in his chest.
Through gritted teeth he spoke the first words that came to him.
“Son of a bitch.”
CHAPTER TWO
Rob took several moments to compose himself. Finding the image of the dragon was a sucker punch, but he wouldn't let it throw him off balance.
What was it doing here?
Axe and buckler at the ready, he took a few steps inside the small space of the alcove, not certain what to expect.
When the dragon didn't come to life, he relaxed only slightly. His eyes were locked on the slab's surface, drinking in all its refined details.
It was absolutely identical to the dragon that appeared on the monitors. A left-facing stylized head, open mouth, long neck, and the beginnings of a shoulder and back. It was black with the natural coloring of the stone filling its contours.
But the most arresting detail was the eye. It appeared to be a multi-faceted crystal, tear shaped and emitting a faint white glow.
He stared at it for so long he found he'd been holding his breath and had to gasp for air. His knees trembled and for a brief moment he felt the same sensation he did the moment the dragon in the office lunged at him.
Like his entire body was being swallowed up.
“Okay,” he said, his voice sounding muted in the cramped chamber. “What is this?”
A message didn't appear, nor could he mentally pull up any details. If this thing had any secrets, it wasn't sharing.
The huge slab sat on a wide featureless rock pedestal. The circle was maybe a foot thick and made from a stone material he recognized. In fact, he'd held the exact kind before in his hand.
Sharding stone.
“What are you?” he said, not really expecting an answer. “Why did you bring me here?”
Frustrated, he inspected the stone slab more closely, careful not to touch it, hoping to find anything that might hint at its purpose.
And on the right side, he found something.
The distinct outlines of two hands were burnt into the surface of the stone, marring the perfect gray complexion of the rock. Was he supposed to put his hands there? He then noticed two burnt outlines of boot prints on the rock floor directly below them.
Someone had stood here. Stood here and placed their hands on this thing and they died doing it. The realization sent a chill down his spine and he backed up a few paces to press against the wall.
His eyes danced from the hand prints to the boot prints. Who had it been? Saif? Jace? Could this be what happened to everyone?
A strange series of images played out in his mind of all the people in the camp coming to stand next to this dragon image and placing their hands on the stone. Then burning to ash as they screamed.
Rob shook his head, a sudden sense of vertigo shuddering through his body. Quickly, he stumbled out of the alcove and outside.
He leaned against the stone of the entrance, trying to catch his breath. What the hell was that about? The same feeling that walloped him on the stairs to the Watcher had hit him again.
After several moments the feeling faded away, and he was able to stand without falling over. He looked back at the dragon, the glow from its eye distinct.
Why didn't Saif tell him this thing was here? He'd put that question to the top of the list. After some thought he didn't think this was where his people were brought to die. That was morbid speculation. This was something else entirely different.
But what?
He reentered and stood before the dais. The dragon image seemed to be watching him, waiting. His eyes looked over at the hand prints. Someone had been here and touched it. But how could he really be sure they died?
“Screw it,” he said and removed his buckler to lean it against the wall. Then he slung his axe on his hip. He picked up a small rock and tossed it underhand at the dragon image.
The rock danced across the slab's surface then rolled down to fall off.
Nothing exploded. The dragon didn't come to life.
“Okay, fine,” he said. He rubbed his hands together, trying to psyche himself up. Then he extended a finger and reached forward.
His finger hovered over the edge of the stone slab, trembling like he'd been shot full of caffeine.
Come on baby-king, he thought. Don't wimp out now.
He tapped the stone with the tip of his finger and quickly yanked his hand away.
The dragon's crystal eye flashed briefly, and then a message appeared.
You are now bound to this Resurrection Chamber.
Please note that when you die your avatar will reappear here. An experience points penalty will be applied, but shall never result in the loss of a level.
One random equipped item will be lost forever and all money coins from your inventory will be dropped at your point of death.
“Oh,” Rob said, feeling a little foolish. He'd expected something to happen when he touched the stone, but not this. Certain he wasn't going to be burned to ashes he reread the message.
The words 'when you die' made him bark out a laugh. In this world, death was a certainty. He'd only died once, back on the island. Since then, he'd come close many times.
Huh, he thought. Now he really wanted to interrogate Saif. Why the hell didn't the Sage tell him to get bound here?
He sighed and shook his head. This place had nothing to do with his missing people and now that he was properly, albeit accidentally, bound to it, he needed to get back to finding them.
But as he swiped the message away a menu popped up.
Resurrection Chamber
Resurrect an NPC
Sever Binding
Invoke a Grand Summoning
Option?
He blinked at the options in surprise. The third was grayed out, so he selected the first.
Resurrect an NPC
Please note that only dead NPCs who are directly known to you can be resurrected.
Available Dead NPCs:
None
Cost: 5 Large Shards of Life
Resurrected NPCs will initially appear with 1 hit point and no mana. An NPC also cannot be resurrected more than once in the same day.
Whoa. Lots of restrictions, he thought. The 'directly known' part must have meant only people he'd spoken to or had a relationship with of some kind. Probably not some random person he'd heard about in conversation.
And the cost looked steep. He hadn't even seen a small shard of life, yet, let alone a large one. And he'd need five to bring someone back.
He shook his head. This was all nice to know, but completely useless to him. Yet there was an interesting take away. No names appeared for resurrection. Did that mean the people he knew from his kingdom were still alive? It must have.
Allowing himself to feel a little relieved he went back to the main menu and selected the second option.
Sever Binding
Do you wish to sever your binding to this Resurrection Chamber? Y/N?
Please note that if you die while unbound your avatar will appear at the closest Resurrection Chamber from your point of death.
Oh, damn. There were other Resurrection Chambers like this in the world? How many, and where? If he died unbound, there could be no telling where he would reappear.
He selected no. What was the point of severing a binding? It must be important for some reason or it wouldn't be an option.
He frowned. Saif. List. Later.
Back at the main menu he tried to select the grayed out third option, Invoke a Grand Summoning, but nothing happened. No information appeared explaining what it was or how to do it.
Okay, that's enough for now, he thought as he swiped the menu away. Having just been through an emotional wringer then hit with a bunch of information, he needed to give his head a rest.
Still, knowing that none of his people were listed for resurrection made him feel much better. He just had to find them.
He retrieved his buckle
r and with a backwards glance at the dragon's image, stepped outside.
Deciding he'd wasted enough time here, he walked back toward the road to resume his search. At least he'd accomplished something this morning other than wander about in a daze.
As he marched through the grass he was struck with a thought and pulled out his Location Scroll. Sure enough, the spot of the Resurrection Chamber had been added to it, but labeled as Current Binding Point.
Again, he wondered at the fact of other chambers out there. Could he be bound to any of them?
Arriving at the road, again, he went south back to camp. He wanted to scout around Castle Hill first before moving into the forest.
He found himself thinking of Dorrish, back in the Annex Marsh. Having him here would make a tremendous difference, but it wasn't meant to be. He envied the spells and abilities the Ranger had and wondered what happened to his friend. Did the Tarantula get him? And if so, would his name have appeared on the Resurrection list?
Returning to camp, he moved to the center circle and stood to one side of the large muddy lake at its middle. A Ranger's abilities included tracking, and although he didn't witness Dorrish tracking anything, he knew the man was probably very good at it. Something Rob needed to work on if he had any hope of finding his people.
He studied the pockmarked mud around the huge puddle. It was a mash of footprints, most he suspected were his own. They didn't tell him anything nor reveal a specific direction they might have gone. Maybe the abduction didn't occur here. Still, he persisted, moving over the muddy tracks in hopes of finding something of relevance.
He found it at the northern edge of the center circle. A large boot print pointed westward toward a gap in the buildings. Rob placed his foot inside the print and found it a little wider than his own.
Jace. Had to be. Or, at least, he'd assume so. There was no telling how long ago it had been made, but judging from the completeness of the print, it must have been recent.
You have advanced in Basic Tracking! Skill has increased from 1% to 2%.
He moved between the buildings and found another large boot print. There were other, smaller prints, but Jace's was most prominent. Continuing on, he appeared at the outer edge of the encampment. Castle Hill rose up before him and the surrounding field spread out to his right.
The mud stopped here, giving way to high grass. Rob noticed that a large section of the grass had been mashed down and flattened.
“Oh,” he said. It appeared that the grass had been deliberately flattened by many feet, with the occasional depression of someone having sat down.
“They were here,” he said. Excitement prickled at the back of his neck. Upon closer inspection he saw that the flattened grass continued on to the west, forming a pathway around the hill. As if many people had tromped off in that direction.
You have advanced in Basic Tracking! Skill has increased from 2% to 3%.
Rob would take all the increases he could get, even though this part was easy enough to see. It was the potential hidden details he was desperate for.
As his eyes scanned over the grass, his gaze was drawn to the back of one of the buildings. A large axe was stuck in the wall, its blade buried in the wood. Looking closer, he noticed the blade was entirely covered in something dark. He recognized what it was.
Blood.
Slinging his own axe, Rob grabbed the other by the handle and tugged at it, but it was good and deep. After several attempts the axe wrenched free. The rest of its blade was also covered in dried blood. He looked the weapon over.
This was Jace's. He recognized it.
So, there was a fight. And someone or something got hurt or killed by the woodcutter.
Good.
But what of Jace?
Frantically, he searched over the flattened area again. He didn't find any blood and surmised that the rain would've washed any away.
He gazed at the axe feeling a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. There was no way to know if the blood could be from Jace himself, or one of his own people.
Still, this was all the confirmation he needed. They had been taken. So he'd follow the flattened pathway through the field and see where it led. He hoped they hadn't gone too far.
But as he started to move, he heard several voices coming from behind him. He froze, listening.
The voices continued speaking, but he couldn't make out what was being said. There were two or three people talking, all male.
He peered between the buildings trying to find their location. As he listened he realized they were coming from the central circle.
Was it Saif? Had his people returned?
Quickly, he ran through the camp, his heart pounding with anticipation.
He popped out from between the buildings and skidded in the mud to a stop.
Across the muddy pond stood three men. All were portly, and nearly identical to each other in appearance. They each held a long, thick staff, like a walking stick.
The three men stopped speaking to turn and look at Rob as he suddenly appeared. In an instant they changed their stances and held their staffs in both hands, ready for a fight.
“Brace yourself, lads!” one of them shouted, his eyes wide at the sight of Rob.
“It's a bloody madman!”
CHAPTER THREE
Rob froze where he stood. Madman? The men watched him warily as they spaced themselves apart, preparing for an attack.
He realized what he looked like; matted hair, days of stubble, skin covered in mud and dried blood, tattered clothing and armed with a bloody axe.
“Oh,” Rob said. “It's okay. I'm not going to attack you.” He lowered the axe to his side and relaxed his stance, trying to not look aggressive.
The man who spoke still regarded him like he was a lunatic. “Charging at us with a weapon seems like an attack to me. Doesn't it to you, boys?”
“Yup,” said one.
“Yup,” said the other.
Rob casually dropped Jace's axe to the ground. “There, that better?”
This appeared to placate the startled men who relaxed a little.
“Who are you?” said the first man.
I'm an asshole, Rob wanted to say, feeling stupid. He said, “Robert. Robert Barron. And you?”
The first man said, “I'm Trenton. And these are my sons, Fenton and Benton.”
Fenton and Benton nodded in turn, but their staffs were still held up in a defensive manner.
To Rob they looked like matching clones, other than Trenton appeared a little older. They wore simple pants and jerkins with small packs on their backs.
Who were these guys?
“You wouldn't happen to be returning subjects, would you?” Rob asked.
“Subjects of what?” Trenton asked, his face scrunching up in confusion.
“Subjects of mine, the king.”
“Subjects of yours?” Trenton's face screwed up even more. “We're no one's subjects and never have been. We freemen, members of the Builders Guild.” The portly man looked Rob over, again. “You think you're a king? A king of what?”
Rob waved his hand at the pathetic buildings around them. “All this. This is my kingdom. The kingdom of Anika.”
“Anika?” said Fenton.
“Sounds foreign,” said Benton.
Trenton's confusion morphed into an expression of sudden disappointment. “Oh, damn. This is the place.”
“What?” said Fenton, alarmed.
“No way,” said Benton, aghast.
“What place?” Rob said.
Trenton gave the surrounding camp a sorrowful look and said. “So this is the Kingdom of Anika and you're its king, right?”
“Yeah,” said Rob, confused.
“Well, then, we've been brought on by your Sage to build a castle.”
Rob brightened. The laborers! Saif must have sent word out for them while he was pouting in his manor. But where were the rest of them?
“Hold on,” Rob said. “So, you're not from
here? The valley?”
“Nope,” said Trenton with a hint of pride. “Originally from Carro, but have been building castles across the land ever since we gained our certification from the guild. Not that I don't think this valley of yours isn't a nice place to be from.”