Land of the Undying

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Land of the Undying Page 11

by Dave Willmarth


  Mace drew his own sword and finished the armless drow with a stab through the neck. Quickly taking in the round room, he saw two hallways leading out roughly ninety degrees from each other. Krieger was near the tunnel to the left, now only facing two guards. Two more were racing toward the room from the right-hand hallway.

  Mace raised a hand and curled it into a fist, uttering the spell trigger “Infier”. The spell cast a fireball that quickly expanded to engulf the two drow who were just stepping into the room. One managed a short scream before falling to curl into a fetal husk on the floor. The other perished in silence. Mace turned back in time to see Krieger finish the last of his foes with a stab to the heart.

  “This way” Krieger flicked the blood off his blades, and moved up the left-hand tunnel.

  This tunnel sloped upward gradually. They were no more than thirty feet from the entrance when Mace heard following footsteps behind them. He turned to face back the way they had come. This time motioning with two hands, he pushed them out together in front of him, then moved them apart, saying “Frigus”. A wall of ice began to form in the center of the tunnel, widening to seal the whole thing. He moved his hands back together, and the flow of magic followed, adding additional ice. When he was done, there was a six-foot thick ice barrier blocking the way.

  Mace turned to find that Krieger had continued on. He raced up the tunnel in pursuit of the Swordmaster, passing half a dozen dead drow before he managed to catch up. Krieger was standing before a door that glowed with wards. “Hurry, disable these! Our prey is on the other side!”

  Mace shook his head. “No time. This would take me an hour. But I have a plan. Step to the side and stay clear of the door.” Turning to the closest corpse, he levitated the body. Moving himself into a corner next to Krieger, he erected a magic shield between them and the door. Then he simply tossed the corpse against the door.

  There were flashes of flame and lighting. The loud wailing of an alarm. Spikes flew from the door, shredding the corpse as they passed through it. Seconds later, a smoking ruin lay at the foot of the doorway. Mace gulped down a mana potion as Krieger kicked open the door and rushed through.

  There were curses and flashes of red as Mace hurried to follow Krieger inside. The Swordmaster faced off against a young wizard and two guards. Another guard lay dead at Krieger’s feet, a hole burned into his back. Krieger was carefully keeping the guards between himself and the wizard’s magic. With all eyes on Krieger, Mace took the opportunity to use his armor’s ability to fade into the shadows. He began to move along the opposite wall, intending to get behind the wizard. He took a moment to get a good look.

  Remus

  Drow Fire Mage

  Level 40

  Health 2,000/2,000

  The two remaining guards were clearly more skilled than those outside. Between them they were keeping Krieger on the defensive as he dodged fire magic and parried sword blows. Frustration clear on his face, the Swordmaster looked around the room. Not seeing Mace, he shouted “Darkblade!”

  Shit. He had to know I’m here. Clever old drow just outed me to take some pressure off himself!

  Upon hearing the word, Remus immediately shifted focus. He produced a wand that, when activated, extended a whip of flames a good ten feet in length. Remus quickly began whirling the whip about, trying to catch Mace as he approached.

  The element of surprise lost, Mace decided to go with brute force. He activated his ring, saying “Stone Golem”. The moment he uttered the words, Remus focused in on his location. The whip swung around and unfurled toward Mace. He jumped aside as the flame scored a vertical line in the wall where he’d been standing. Remus pulled the whip back and unfurled it again, this time in a horizontal slash. It was intercepted, however, by the massive stone body of the golem. It immediately charged toward the wizard, as the whip wrapped around its torso. Though the flame did little to no damage to the stone, the wizard was able to bind one of the golem’s arms to its side.

  Undaunted, the single-minded golem continued on its path toward Remus. Mace, meanwhile, was rushing toward Remus’ back. With the whip occupied, he saw an opportunity.

  Krieger, no longer having to dodge fireballs, had managed to kill one of the guards. He was pressing the other back toward Remus when he saw Mace moving in to attack.

  “No! The traitor is mine!” he shouted at Mace.

  Remus immediately spun and flung a blast of fire at Mace. Being only about four feet away, the flames struck him full in the face, knocking him backward and off his feet. His health dropped to 20%.

  Remus turned to deal with the golem. With what strength he had, he pulled hard on the whip as he stepped to one side. The charging golem was overbalanced, and fell forward. The chamber shook as it impacted the floor.

  Krieger disposed of the last guard by removing his left leg at the knee. Leaving the drow to bleed out, he rushed at Remus, both bloody swords reflecting firelight as he raised them in an attack posture.

  Remus raised a hand, and a gout of flame erupted toward Krieger’s face. The same spell that had just nearly killed Mace. Using his momentum, the Swordmaster simply dropped into a slide that took him below the flames. He passed to the left of Remus, both blades puncturing the wizard. One sank deep into an inner thigh, severing artery and muscle. The other slid beneath the ribs to disembowel the drow caster. Blood pumped from the arterial wound in the leg as the wizards innards slopped onto the floor with a wet squelch.

  Remus dropped whimpering to his knees as Mace struggled to rise. The pain of being burned so badly was intense. He nearly lost his own stomach contents when he saw Remus’ innards spill out onto the floor.

  In no hurry to end the wizard’s pain, Krieger tossed one of those beautiful glowing rare quality health potions at Mace, who wasted no time in taking a large swig. “Thank you, Swordmaster.”

  Krieger chuckled. “Least I could do. Did my best to get you killed twice.”

  Despite his irritation, Mace grinned at the old drow. “Yes. I noticed.”

  Krieger turned back to the quickly fading wizard. “Remus. You have been declared a traitor by our house Matron. There is only one punishment.” he intoned. With a quick motion of his right hand, he removed Remus’ head. There wasn’t the normal fountain of blood, as most of Remus’ supply had already pumped from his thigh wound. The head simply tumbled to the floor with a dull crack as the skull struck the stone.

  Notifications began to flash across Mace’s UI, but he suppressed them as he dismissed the golem back to its home.

  “We should go.” Krieger said, looking significantly in the direction they’d come from. The sounds of ice being hacked at with metal weapons echoed down the tunnel toward them.

  “Don’t you want to loot the wizard’s body?” Mace looked longingly at the wand still held in the headless wizard’s hand.

  “Help yourself.” Krieger shrugged. “Just be quick.”

  Mace could do quick. He bent and looted the wizard, then the guards, just transferring everything but the wand directly into his bag. The wand, he kept in his hand.

  Seeing that he was through, Krieger led the way out. A stone door led to a stairway that wound upward through what looked like a large water well. Sure enough, they emerged at the top, stepping out of a well located in a stable yard. Mace recognized the stablemaster as an acquaintance of Jervis, to whom he’d been sent with a message more than once. The drow in the area all studiously ignored the presence of a Swordmaster and mage casually popping up out of the well and walking away.

  Several streets away from the stables, Krieger paused in an alley. “Jervis tells me you’re headed for the surface on a quest.”

  Mace was instantly suspicious. Though he and Krieger had now fought together twice, this was still Immernacht. “If I were, it seems unlikely to me that Jervis would share such information. Or, really, any information about anything at all.”

  “HA! Well said, boy. Do not worry. Jervis and I are old friends. True friends. There is no nee
d for deception between us. At least, not in this matter.” he winked. “I merely brought it up because I have some business near the surface myself. The tunnels would be a much safer place for a young drow to travel, were he walking next to a Swordmaster.”

  Mace didn’t need to think it over. “Indeed they would. And I would be glad to accompany you on your journey. How close to the surface are you going?”

  “I wish to commission an item from the grey dwarves. There is a Master Smith in Svarthold who has perfected a technique that interests me. It is rumored that he uses soul magic in the forging of his weapons. And that those weapons can absorb the essence of victims to increase in power. Eventually becoming sentient. I wish to see this for myself.”

  Mace nodded. This was good fortune for him. He had studied the general route to the surface, and the underdark in general, quite extensively in preparation for his trip. Svarthold was an underground stronghold of the grey dwarves, also known as dark dwarves. It was located six hours’ travel from Immernacht along the more commonly used tunnels. From Svarthold, it was less than a full day’s hard march to the surface, along well traveled tunnels mostly kept clear of the worst monsters by the dwarves. Two days if you took your time.

  While the route in general was longer than the one Mace had planned, it was safer, and probably faster. Plus, he had to admit he was curious about this soul magic himself. And seeing Svarthold would be an adventure.

  “I believe I would like to see such a thing as well, Swordmaster. I am ready to leave whenever you are.”

  Krieger nodded his acceptance. “I must report back to my Matron. And I imagine you have some belongings to gather? I will meet you at Jervis’ shop in an hour.” He turned and proceeded down the alley, leaving Mace on his own.

  Mace knew his general vicinity within the city. He scanned the area for a moment, not seeing any familiar landmarks. In the end, he walked back to the stable yard. He knew his way from there. Ten minutes later he was back at the market nearest his inn. He purchased a large backpack, some traveling rations, health and mana potions, a rope (never leave home without a rope), and a few spell components.

  Returning to the inn, he emptied the chest at the foot of the bed. All the items inside went on the bed to be sorted. The most valuable or heavy items, he put into his bag of holding. Each item, or stack of the same items, took up a single inventory slot. The less valuable, lighter weight items he put into the backpack. When he was done, the pack weighed about twenty pounds. Not ideal for a long walk, but acceptable.

  Leaving his room, and heading downstairs, he stopped at the bar to drop off his key. The stoic drow behind the counter actually raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you would never leave.” the drow said in a tone that left Mace wondering whether it was intended as insult, or just statement of fact.

  “Yes, well. Thank you for the hospitality. And the sparkling conversation.” Mace grinned at the drow innkeeper as he left.

  Back at Jervis’ shop, Mace laid out the armor he’d taken from the guards. Both had worn matching sets of high quality armor. Jervis inspected them closely, finding several minor enchantments infused into each set. “I will give you 120 gold for the pair.” Jervis set a small bag of gold on the counter.

  Mace suspected that the items were worth maybe two thirds that amount. It was his master’s way of giving him some traveling money. “That is more than gracious, master.” He shifted the pack on his back uncomfortably before reaching for the gold. Jervis eyed him curiously.

  “What do you carry, there? And what does it weigh?” the elder drow asked.

  “Everything I own. In case I do not make it back here for some reason. And it weighs about twenty pounds.” Mace replied.

  “Nonsense. In the tunnels, an added twenty pounds might slow you down enough to get you killed. Give me twenty of that gold back.” Jervis held out a hand.

  Smiling at the old man’s audacity, Mace opened the bag, removed twenty gold, and set it on the counter. Jervis made it disappear, then reached into a glass case behind the counter. He withdrew a leather belt with a small pouch sewn to the side. Mace used Identify on it as Jervis handed it over.

  Belt of Capaciousness

  Yes, it really is bigger on the inside. This belt accommodates storage of up to 100 items. Items of identical makeup (i.e. coins, arrows, potions) will stack within the same item slot, up to a quantity of 100. The weight of items stored within will be reduced by 99%. Once equipped, this item cannot be stolen or removed by anyone other than the wearer.

  Mace immediately equipped the belt, before Jervis could change his mind. This bag was worth much more than 20 gold. It tripled his carrying capacity. “Thank you, Master.” He said, removing his pack and transferring items into the belt. When it was empty, he deposited the pack in there as well. “This does indeed make travel much easier. And I’ll be able to bring back much more loot for you to purchase.”

  “My intent exactly.” Jervis smiled at him. “I expect you to return with great piles of surface leather for me to work with. One gets tired of kobold skin and rock spider chitin. And you can never really get the smell out of troll skin.”

  Mace went in the back room and reloaded the golem spell into his ring. He’d used it twice in a week. And it had been effective both times. He saw no reason to change, for now. When he emerged, Krieger was speaking quietly to Jervis. While they spoke, he took a moment to pull up the suppressed notifications on his UI.

  Quest Complete: Mage Ya Look!

  Quest reward: 1,100 experience points

  Kill experience points: 380

  Level Up! You are now Level 30.

  You have received one attribute point.

  You are now eligible to select a class specialization.

  Mace declined to assign the point, or choose a specialization. He’d take care of both later. Right now it was time to get on the road.

  Krieger and Jervis had concluded their conversation. Mace thanked his master again, and they took their leave.

  As Mace followed Krieger through the city, the old Swordmaster said “As it turns out, we’ll not need to walk to Svarthold. An allied house is sending a trade caravan to the stronghold. You and I will be riding one of the wagons in the guise of mercenary guards. The pay is crap” he grinned “but it’ll be faster. And the larger caravans rarely get attacked.”

  They approached the gate of one of the House compounds. The gate was open, and Mace could see folks bustling about, preparing four wagons. Troll slaves were loading crates and bundles into the wagon beds, while kobolds were harnessing one of the large petramanders to each. Petramanders were creatures of the deep tunnels. Cousins to the surface salamanders, these stone lizards stood four feet high at the shoulders, and were fifteen feet long from nose to tail. Their skin was nearly as tough as that of a rock troll. Able to climb walls or hang from ceilings with ease, they were ambush predators, like almost everything else underground. The petramanders had been domesticated millennia ago, and these were docile, as long as they were kept fed.

  Krieger led them inside, nodding his head at the gate guards, who pretended not to see him. They approached a drow who appeared to be in charge, as she was pointing and shouting orders at the slaves. “Reporting for duty, as agreed.” Krieger bowed his head ever so slightly. Mace followed his lead.

  “Good!” She practically growled at them. “You two have the last wagon. It’s already loaded. Hop in the back. Try not to let the driver die.” She pointed them toward the wagon, then moved away, yelling at one of the trolls who’d dropped a bundle.

  “Figures” Krieger chuckled. “The rear wagon.”

  In the tunnels, the last wagon was usually the first attacked. The ambush predators, at least the intelligent ones, waited for a large party to pass by, attacking the last in line in hopes of picking off a quick and quiet kill. Or at least to get a few bites, and escape.

  The two jumped up in the wagon bed, making themselves comfortable atop bundles of kobold skins. To Mace’s surpr
ise, when their driver climbed aboard, it was a grey dwarf.

  “Git yerselves settled. We’ll be leavin’ any minute. Keep yer eyes peeled fer critters” the dwarf said, laying a wicked looking battleaxe on the bench next to him. “I be Griff. Shout me name if ye sees any nasties comin fer me head!”

  Krieger and Mace both nodded in greeting. Krieger made a show of drawing his swords and executing a quick limbering exercise. His blades were a blur of motion, then were suddenly back in their sheaths. Griff nodded in appreciation of the demonstration. He looked at Mace, who just grinned and wiggled his fingers as if casting a spell. Griff rolled his eyes and turned away. Dwarves tended to put much more faith in strength of arms than magic.

  A call went up, and the lead wagon began to move. The others fell into line behind it, and they were on their way. The line of wagons was escorted by four riders on a smaller breed of petramanders. These had been bred to be fast and vicious. They were bonded to their riders at birth, and only their riders could approach them safely.

  The caravan quickly made its way out of the city, and across the open killzone outside the walls. As they entered the first tunnel, two of the lizard riders moved to the front of the column, and the other two dropped to the rear behind Griff’s wagon.

  The first hour of their journey was uneventful. Krieger had immediately settled back and appeared to be asleep. Griff focused on keeping their wagon in line and avoiding any pitfalls. As dwarves didn’t have the night vision that drow enjoyed, each wagon sported a torch on a pole affixed to the side. These were much like the streetlights in the city, giving off a faint red glow that was just sufficient to light the way.

  The two guards behind them spoke animatedly in the drow hand language. Silence was survival down here, and being able to communicate without speaking often meant the difference between life and death. Unfortunately, Mace was still learning the language, and couldn’t follow their conversation well at all.

  Just after the one-hour mark, they entered the first cavern. The series of tunnels that ran from Immernacht to Svarthold passed through several of these. Immediately, the caravan was on alert. Though Krieger didn’t stir noticeably. One might be ambushed in a tunnel by a random rock spider or a roving band of kobolds. But the larger, truly dangerous predators hunted the caverns.

 

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