“Very well,” he said. “Let’s get going.”
Desmond glared but kept silent.
Twenty-Seven
As soon as the tunnel Leara had created reached the sewers, the Fae woman parted ways with Hawke.
“I will leave Akila now,” she said. “When your task is done, dear Desmond, meet me at the meadow where we stayed before entering the city. Do not make me come looking for you.”
“You won’t have to. I’ll be there,” the Warrior said. He didn’t use any titles or honorifics when he spoke, but there was a tone of worshipfulness in his voice that left no doubts as to who was in charge.
“If that ritual goes off, you won’t be safe within fifty miles of the city,” Hawke warned her.
“There is still time. I will not be in the Common Realm by the time the ceremony is complete. It would be a pity if the whole place dies out, I must admit. I would actually feel bad. For a bit.”
She was speaking English, which somehow made her sound even more alien than if she’d stuck to Common Fey.
“These things happen,” she went on when she noticed the look Hawke was giving her. “Someone will eventually step in and set things to right even if you fail, Mr. Twilight Paladin. Sure, a lot of peasants won’t get to live their allotted fortysomething years of miserable existence, but Ragnarök is always harder on the little people. In this case, at least everyone will get to suffer, rich and powerful and poor and helpless alike. Equality in misery. Very democratic.”
“You could help stop it.”
“I’m lending you my pet. He’s pretty formidable. That’s as far as I can go without upsetting my superiors. I hope you make it, Hawke, but I won’t risk my immortal skin on something as vulgar as saving a city full of humans and other lesser species.”
“Great,” Hawke said, already regretting having made a deal with the Sidhe woman. “I guess I’ll see you when you come to collect on your debt.”
“That you will.”
She turned to Desmond, who was glancing back between her and Hawke, clearly unhappy. Her grin widened.
“You’ll be all right, dearie.” Her accent changed, like something out of a British show, as she handed him a flask. “Have a wee bit of the nectar.”
The Engraved Warrior took a long swig from the container, and his eyes gained a glassy sheen that Hawke didn’t like. A drug of some sort, he figured. Desmond seemed to relax somewhat.
With that, Leara headed snapped her fingers and teleported away. Nice trick.
“She could have at least given us a ride to the surface,” Hawke commented sourly.
Desmond laughed. “Leara doesn’t do favors. She already got what she wanted from you, so why would she do anything else?”
“Well, she lent you to me. I’ll make sure to return you to your owner in good condition.”
He shrugged, seemingly too drunk or drugged to care much. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t care either way. And I’m tired of smelling the sewer, so let’s get moving.”
* * *
They made it to the surface in silence, which suited Hawke. He didn’t really have anything left to say to Desmond.
He used the quiet time to make a quick call to Tava through Saturnyx. They exchanged news first. Her group had just made it back to Dwarven Hills and Korgam was talking to the thane.
“Saturnyx kept me apprised of your misadventures,” Tava told him. “Beware of Desmond.”
I am, Hawke replied mentally. He still blames me for everything, including the brand-new mess he’s in.
Maybe I should help him get out of that situation. I just don’t know how, short of cutting Leara’s throat, which is a bit extreme.
I didn’t know that. I thought we were unique.
Hawke shrugged. If he had to deal with the High Sidhe, he’d explore the ‘nearly’ concept and figure something out.
This is going to be rough, he told Tava. That Troglodyte city is nasty as hell.
Too rough for poor little me, perhaps, she replied, half-amused, half-annoyed. You sent me away for my own good once today. I believe that is your limit.
We’ll probably be going back there soon, he said. And I can’t think of anybody else I want fighting beside me.
Which was true, although in no small part because if she was nearby he could make sure she stayed in one piece. But also because her Ranger-Slayer class combo made her downright deadly, especially at range, although she could hold her own in close combat as well. Her biggest deficiency was against debuffs and mind-affecting spells, and there would be plenty of healers and protection magic to go around. It wouldn’t be safe, but safety was at best relative in the Realms. Case in point: the tens of thousands who might be a few days away from turning into Undead and couldn’t run, hide, or fight against that fate.
I will see you soon, he promised her as he spotted an exit to the sewer. Right after I share the bad news with the authorities.
I’ll be helping the Sterns rally up the Dwarves, as well as readying our guild. They’ve all volunteered to go, by the way.
I guess dumbassery is contagious, he said.
Hawke took a grateful breath when he and Desmond emerged into the familiar environs of the Crafter’s Market, only to discover that he’d been down in the sewers long enough for the stench to cling to him. Grunting, he stepped behind a vacant stall and recycled all his clothes through the Inventory. He’d discovered that doing that removed dirt and foreign objects from items, returning them in pristine condition. He still didn’t smell like roses, but it would have to do until he had time for a bath. It probably didn’t matter, since expected he would be going back down into the sewers either in a few hours or the next day at the latest.
Hawke replaced the Thanatos armor with the Tercos Agostas’ set, which wouldn’t attract as much attention or terrify the tourists; the Death-attuned armor was scary as hell, and with good reason. He also changed his name and class again. Kaiser’s sniper teams could still be out there, waiting for him to show his face.
“What now?” Desmond asked him, not sounding like he cared much about the answer.
“Going to the temple district to see the High Priest of Lumina. After that, we and a few others will see the Prefect and get a posse together.”
“Sounds like fun,” the tattooed Warrior said. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure nobody hurts you, much.”
“Just follow my lead and we’ll be fine.”
“Sure. Just like the last time.”
“I don’t have time to rehash old crap. You got butthurt about something that happened before I met you, and you decided to leave the party. It’s done. I don’t know what’s going on between you and the Fae woman…”
“None of your business.”
“… but it’s none of my business, correct. So let’s just do some hack and slash and then we can part ways again. We don’t have to be friends.”
If they were friends, Hawke would have told Desmond that Leara had played a part in turning a human gamer named Greg into Domort the Necromancer, and that, years later, Greg had captured and tortured her after someone had given him her True Name, enabling his spells to bypass all her defenses and resistance levels. Or that she had been an agent of Laughing Man, and probably still was. But he couldn’t trust Desmond. He would tell Leara, who struck Hawke as the kind of person who’d kill anyone who knew too much about her.
“Sounds awesome,” Desmond agreed. As they started walking down the street, he asked, “How’s Alba?”
“Pretty good. She’s my Chief Intelligence Offic
er now.”
“You two together?”
“None of your business. But no.”
“How about Nadia?”
“She’s good, too. Anything else is none of your business, either.”
“Fair enough, I guess.”
They stayed quiet after that, until Desmond noticed Hawke looking around and mostly up.
“What’s bothering you?”
“Snipers.”
“Snipers?”
“Kaiser figured out how to make guns, sort of. Magical, no way to mass produce them, but they shoot just fine and hit pretty hard.”
“Huh. I’ll keep an eye out for them, too.”
“Thanks.”
They made their way through the market, where Hawke noticed the crowd looked downright anxious. He and Desmond attracted many suspicious stares, but the subdued mood went beyond that; there were few smiles to be seen, and a lot more merchants had short swords or long daggers visibly hanging from belts at their waists, something he hadn’t seen before. The Crafter’s Market had plenty of private guards, but the sellers themselves didn’t normally go around armed. The disappearances must have spooked everyone.
If he didn’t stop the ritual, none of those precautions would save those people, of course. That was why he needed all the help he could get, even if it came from an untrustworthy gamer and his Fae mistress.
Twenty-Eight
Quest Complete: Evil Lurks Beneath the Earth, Part I
You have earned 4,800 Experience (+20% from Triune Goddesses bonus, 600 diverted towards Leadership; 600 diverted towards Node Mastery.
You have earned 25 gold.
You have gained +170 Reputation with City Prefect Decimes (100% Charisma Bonus, -30% for being the bearer of dire news).
Your Leadership has increased to Level Twelve! New abilities available.
Current XP/Next Level: 114,452/125,000. Leadership XP/Next Level: 51,327/75,000
Current Node Mastery XP/Next Level: 26,738/35,000. Current Guild XP/Next Level: 5,352/7,500
That’s nice, Hawke thought. Between the metric ton of monsters he had killed and the quest he had completed, he was almost to his next level. Assuming he didn’t get killed again, of course.
He dismissed the notification and continued to watch City Prefect Orelio Decimes squirm as the ‘dire news’ sunk in. From the way the man’s nose wrinkled when he glanced at Hawke, the sewer stink was still an issue. That had to be putting a dent in his Charisma bonuses.
“A city of Troggs? An Undead city of Troggs, rising up to destroy Akila!” the man gasped. He turned to his chief Wizardry Councilor. “What do you have to say Albonicus?”
Albonicus (Level 18 Elementalist Wizard) looked worried as he answered his boss. “Even now, our scrying spells cannot locate the Trogg ruins. If what the Paladin says is true, their foul magic has kept them hidden for millennia, and we cannot even fathom how they did it, let alone how to break through their wards.”
After taking a deep breath, the wizard went on. “None of this should be possible. No Undead should have entered the city without being burned to cinders by our own wards, either. We face a power greater than anything that should exist in the Common Realm.”
Which is exactly what is happening, Hawke thought. At least two Makers are making a mess. Three if Kaiser’s patron is someone else.
“First this plague of Eternals, and now this!” the Prefect lamented. “Have we angered the gods so much that they will not rest until they bring ruin to all our works?”
Dude is a drama queen.
Figures.
“The gods sent Hawke Lightseeker here, your Esteemed Excellency,” High Priest Secondo said. “Through him, they seek to avert the very evil we now face.”
“I wish they could be more direct with their interventions.”
Secondo frowned. “Your Excellency, to wish the gods to act openly is to wish untold destruction into the Realms. When gods intervene, mountains crumble and seas swallow whole cities. Their might is too much for mere mortals to face, or even to be in its vicinity.”
“Yes, of course,” Orelio grunted, not pleased to be corrected but too worried to make much of it. “We must strike before their filthy ritual is complete! The Ninth Legion will deal with them, won’t they, Legate General Neron?”
The military commander (a level 21 Warrior-Arcane Commander) had been at the meeting and listened silently while Hawke, the High Priest of Lumina, Korgam Stern, acting as representative of Dwarven Hills, and Archmage Jacobus (Jake Duchamp’s official name and title), told their tales. Besides the Prefect and the general, the City Sorcerer and the Captain of the City Watch were present. Everyone was seated at a c-shaped table, with the Prefect on his own taller chair in the middle of the semicircle, where he could look down on everybody. They all had listened to Hawke’s news with grim expressions.
Neron answered the Prefect’s question in a tired, exasperated tone:
“All but a cadre of troops are tending to their land grants, in preparation for the Juno harvest. As they have done for every one of the past fifteen years, since Your Excellency decided to replace their pay with the produce of said lands, which they must supervise if they hope to turn a profit. This makes campaigning at this time of the year rather difficult.”
“Well, have them assemble! This is an emergency.”
“Seven thousand men are scattered throughout as many farms, many of them a week’s ride away. We don’t have the means to bring them all back in fewer than ten days, or perhaps two weeks. From what the Paladin said, this matter will be resolved long before that happens. One way or another.”
“General,” Hawke interrupted before the Prefect stopped sputtering and continued the argument. “What forces do you have in the city?”
“A much better question, your holiness. Two centuries of new recruits, currently undergoing their ten-week training period, and another century’s equivalent of trainers, officers, and non-commissioned officers, long in years but also in experience and skill. They include two dozen Class holders, levels five to twelve. They are worth five times their numbers, but still leaves well short of a full legion. And we have the Wizards’ Auxiliaries, of course, since they insisted in a cash payment and remain in the city. Twenty magic-users, level nine to fifteen.”
“The City Watch numbers eight hundred men, and the Special Cohort is comprised entirely of Adventurers in Akila’s service,” Orelio added.
The Legate sneered. “Most of those eight hundred are fat and corrupt, more at home intimidating shopkeepers and rousting out street urchins than fighting. Only a few former legionnaires ever choose to wear the red coat, and those are usually the bottom of the barrel, since a veteran in good standing can find better work elsewhere.”
The Watch Captain started to protest, but the Legate interrupted him. “We do not have time to argue,” Neron went on. “But I will take the Special Cohort of the Watch, who are almost worth their salt.”
“In any case, we can’t take too many normies, ah, non-Adventurers there,” Hawke said. “The place has some nasty enchantments that will drive people crazy just from being there. Unless you can protect an army, you need people who can take care of themselves.”
“There will be Adventurers aplenty joining ye,” Korgam Stern said. “Sixty Dwarves of assorted Classes have volunteered in any effort to preserve the city. We will pick twenty of their best to join the force going into the Trogg ruins, with the rest standing guard, not only over our own, but over all of Akila.”
“And my Guild as well,” Hawke said. “There are only seven of us, but we’ll fight.”
“And the Green Coven will send six of their members, including their leader Heketa, all gifted healers. At least, they will do so as soon as the Prefect puts an end to their persecution, now that he knows they had nothing to do with the attack on my Council,” Jake Duchamp added. “I will join as well, repres
enting the Council of the Wise. There would be more if the Nerf Herders hadn’t murdered most of us in our beds, of course.”
“I will rescind the arrest warrants against the Coven immediately, and we will certainly deal with the Herders as soon as possible,” Orelio said. “Those rabid dogs invaded my home and threatened my life! All that can wait until the current crisis is over, unfortunately. We may need to use the forces we amass against the Undead to bring justice to the so-called ‘King’ Wrecker and his gang of bandits.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Hawke said.
“Do you think those forces will suffice?” the Prefect asked.
“There were maybe a thousand Undead down there, mostly minions,” Hawke said. “Tough minions, but with some coordination and magic support, we can take them. My biggest worry is the leaders. The Revenant is an Undead-Fae hybrid with a lot of power, and the Trogg leader is a Chaos-Undeath expert.”
“We’ll handle them,” Jake said, sounding fairly sure of himself.
“Also, they know I saw what they were up to before I escaped, so they must expect an attack. They are probably preparing their defenses to keep us away while they finish their ritual.”
“They cannot be allowed to finish,” Jake said. “We can’t evacuate the city in a week, and even if we could, most wouldn’t get beyond the spell’s area of effect in time. They would just die tired.”
“Then let us act,” the Prefect said, looking and sounding like a leader. It might be an act, but it helped raise the morale of the gathered city officials. “Make an end of it, and quickly. We attack at dawn tomorrow.”
You have been offered a Quest: Evil Lurks Beneath the Earth, Part II
You have learned that an ancient Trogg city lies beneath Akila, and that its Undead denizens, along with Laryn the Revenant, are preparing a deadly ritual. They must be stopped or thousands will die.
Quest Objective: Participate in the operation to prevent the ritual from being completed.
Guilds at War: The LitRPG Saga Continues Page 21