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The Half Dragon of Yaerna: The Gathering Arc Box Set: Books 1-3

Page 15

by Hans Bezdek


  “Who’s next?” she shouted, swinging her Sword out before her.

  An orc rushed at her, grabbing at the hilt of her weapon to try and wrestle it out of the much smaller elf’s hands. The second his hands touched the hilt, he shouted out in pain, letting go of the Sword and bringing up them up to stare at them. Cassandra took a swing at him, but he ducked and took a few steps back. Shaking the pain away from his hands, he drew an axe as two goblins rushed up to Cassandra at the same time, distracting her from the orc.

  Before he could advance on the elf, a ball of fire hit the orc in the face, catching the top of his tunic on fire. The orc dropped his axe as he held his face in both hands, dropping to the ground and rolling.

  One of the kobolds turned as I closed the distance, cocking my arm back. His eyes widened as he brought up his dagger, knowing it was too late. The rockets in my metal glove shot off as I punched forward, adding strength and speed to it. My fist met the kobold on his cheek, violently turning his head and neck to the left. I heard a crack as his neck broke and he flew back a dozen feet.

  “That’s a goblin invention!” shouted one of the goblins, rushing at me with a short sword.

  “Good eye,” I said, bringing up my dagger to parry it.

  “How’d you get it?” he demanded, swinging wildly at me.

  “Off one of your people, naturally,” I said, side stepping most of his attacks.

  “You’ll pay for that!” he shouted, swinging more wildly now and not letting up.

  I blocked a few more of his swings, before he over committed and took a few steps closer to me. I kicked out his left leg, tripping him, and brought my dagger into his back. He shouted out for a brief second, before his breath and life escaped him.

  Not wasting any time, I pulled my dagger back out and ran at the orc I hit with a fireball. He had finally gotten the fire out, but his face was horribly burned. Unable to see clearly, he punched out at me randomly, missing me entirely. I ducked under his arms and brought the dagger up several times, carving away at his exposed chest until he finally fell.

  Glancing back up, I saw the two remaining orcs take off running. It looked like they had seen enough to know the fight was not going their way.

  I looked around to see all of their comrades dead or dying, with Cassandra taking care of one final kobold. Her first swing cut the kobold’s hammer in half, which the creatures stared down at in despair. The Shattered Sword cleaved through him in one slice, losing its blue glow as the creature fell.

  “Woah… cool timing,” I said. “I thought you couldn’t control the Sword’s glowing?”

  “Ugh, I can’t,” she grunted, glaring down at the weapon. “I still have no idea why it turns on and off sporadically.”

  “Well, it worked out for us there,” I said, putting my dagger back on my belt. “And like I said, it looked cool turning off there at the end.”

  Cassandra thought about it as she sheathing the Sword. “Yeah, I guess it did, didn’t it?”

  Chapter 3

  We looted the Greeners, taking the decent amount of quat they had on them, and continued on. Several hours passed until we finally saw the giant fortress that was Vorova.

  “Incredible,” mumbled Cassandra, looking at the giant stone structure before us.

  “It truly is,” I nodded. I had never actually seen the place with my own eyes. From a distance, the city looked almost like a mountain. It was higher than anything around for many miles, and a giant tower stood peaking above the enormous stone walls.

  It took us another hour to finally reach the entrance of Vorova, and by that time the sun had fallen away. The wall completely encased the city, with the small exception of six gates that allowed people in and out. We approached the southeastern gate as the guards finished lighting torches on the outside of the wall.

  “Halt for inspection!” shouted one of the guards as we approached them.

  “Sure, no problem,” I smiled, taking out my dagger and bag, handing them over to him. Being a capital city, I expected this. I waited to see if they would asked to see my glove, but they didn’t. A weapon that doubled as clothing had its perks.

  Two guards approached Cassandra, who hesitated and looked at me. I nodded, and she removed two daggers from her belt, plus one in her boot. She handed them over, along with her bag. She stared back blankly as they looked at her.

  “What?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

  “Ma’am, your sword,” said one of them, pointing at her side.

  “Oh, right,” she blushed, forgetting about the Shattered Sword. She took the scabbard off and handed it to them as well.

  The man who took the Sword by the scabbard walked away. I watched as he tried to pull the Sword out, yelping out in surprise from the pain. The other guards glanced over at him, and he just smiled back awkwardly. Looked like he wouldn’t try that again.

  “You seem very well armed, ma’am,” said the guard that held my daggers. He had a metal band that was over both shoulders, unlike the others. I assumed he was their superior. “Why is that?”

  “Is it illegal for me to wander Yaerna armed for battle?” she asked.

  “Of course not,” said the man, a fake smile on his lips. “However, it is a bit strange to see an elven woman carrying three daggers and a strange sword. Why the extra protection?”

  “We’re in Truska, are we not?” I said. What was this guy trying to get at? I understood stopping visitors when coming into a city, but it seemed like he was fishing for something more. “Greeners and bandits wander this territory, and we had to be prepared for anything.”

  “Still, carrying a dagger or two makes more sense than a whole armory, don’t you think?” asked the guard, eyeing Cassandra.

  “Can never be too careful,” she said, meeting his eye.

  I looked around as we waited, taking note of the transitional space. The gate was only twenty or so feet wide, and maybe double that in height. A large, spiked portcullis hung above us, ready to be dropped at a moments notice. While the city hadn’t been attacked in ages, they were ready for anything.

  There were two doors on the sides of the gate, each with a large window next to them. Those must be where they interrogated travelers more heavily, or maybe used the space to take their breaks.

  The guard looked back and forth between us as the two other guards finished making notes of our weapons and handed them back.

  “Very well,” said the guard, clearing his throat. “We are a peaceful town, and it would serve you best to not brandish any of your weapons while on our streets.”

  “Of course,” I said diplomatically. Cassandra nodded her assent.

  “Welcome to Vorova,” he said stretching his arm out and letting us pass.

  We hurried by without another word. As we entered the city, we looked up to the giant tower that dominated our view. It must have been a hundred stories or more, and was flanked by two much smaller pillars. The tower was considered one of the twelve wonders of Yaerna, and at night sparkled with various colored lights. I couldn’t see anything projecting onto the tower to cause it, which meant it must have been magic. There were probably some very powerful mages in town that I didn’t want to get on the wrong side of.

  “Do you think that’s where the Lance of Power is?” asked Cassandra.

  “Probably,” I shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

  The two of us made a beeline for the tower, passing by a number of stands and stone buildings as we went. The streets were beginning to die down with business, but the merchants didn’t seem happy to have the night off.

  “A beautiful necklace for the beautiful lady?” called out a gnome nearby.

  “What an ugly glove! You could surely use a new pair from Malcolm’s private collection, sir!” called out a human to my left.

  Cassandra looked around in wonder while I kept my head down and hood high. All these people were selling shady merchandise and trying to make some quick quat. The last thing we needed to do was
make eye contact with one of them. I had hoped the elf would know better than to keep looking arou-

  “Excuse me, Miss,” called out an older woman’s voice. “You look like you are in need of a powerful weapon!”

  Cassandra gasped and pulled on my arm, walking over to the owner of the voice.

  I sighed, following after the foolish elf.

  A human woman in her fifties was trying to sell Cassandra on a bow, claiming it was the Bow of Tamina.

  “Reimar, look!” exclaimed Cassandra in a hushed voice, pointing down at the ordinary looking bow. “The Bow of Tamina! It’s one of the legendary weapons of old that we’re looking for!”

  “It is destiny that you have walked past me this evening,” nodded the woman, a huge smile on her face. “It isn’t a coincidence that a beautiful elven warrior walks by, reminiscent of Tamina herself!”

  “How much?” asked the elf, sold on the piece of junk before I knew it.

  “For you? 20,000 quat,” smiled the woman. “A real steal, if I do say so myself.”

  “Oh… I don’t have the much,” she said, shoulders drooping.

  I pulled back on the elf’s arm, trying to keep us moving. “It’s fake, Cassandra.”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “Who am I to stand in the way of destiny?” shouted the woman as we began walking off. “10,000 quat!”

  “Because there’s no way some homely merchant in Vorova has a mythical weapon, and is willing to immediately cut the price in half once her potential buyer begins walking off,” I said.

  Cassandra thought about it for a moment, then nodded and followed after me.

  “You’re not always right, you know,” she said. “You thought that the seers were wrong about the Shattered Sword, and about the prophecy of The Gathering.”

  “I’ll admit I might’ve been a bit mistaken on those,” I yielded. “But one of the seers was really Ulrich, trying to get us to free the crown.”

  “Yeah, well… I was still right.”

  Before I could say anything else, an elven man dressed in black and white stripes jumped in front of us. His face was painted white, with his eyes and lips painted black. The elf took small steps, arms in front of him as if he was trapped inside of a box.

  “Get out of my way!” I barked, hand immediately going for my dagger.

  The elf stared back at me, slowly stepping back to my left. The elf made a fake crying face, looking at Cassandra for help.

  “What’s your deal with mimes?” giggled Cassandra. “They’re just fun!”

  “No, they’re not,” I growled, glaring as the mime slowly side stepped away from us. I didn’t release me dagger until I was sure he was gone. “Never trust someone that covers their face and moves silently.”

  “If you say so,” she laughed.

  After narrowly avoiding murdering the mime, we finally made it to the tower. I went to pull on the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Huh?” I said, trying again.

  “It closes after dark,” said Cassandra.

  “How do you know that?” I asked, turning back.

  “I can read, unlike some people,” she said, pointing at a sign hanging above us, which read:

  Tower is closed after dark and opens at sunrise. Thank you for visiting us!

  “Yeah well… you… you almost bought a fake bow.”

  “And you almost assaulted a clown.”

  “Clowns and mimes are completely different!” I shouted, feeling a vein throb on my forehead.

  “If you say so,” she laughed, looking around. “Looks like we’ll be spending the night in town.”

  I took a deep breath and nodded, looking around at the signs on the stone buildings. One of them was a picture of a bed. “How about that inn?”

  “Works for me,” she said, as the two of us went over to the building.

  We opened the door and found a dwarf with a big gray beard sitting behind a desk in the middle of the room. He smiled up at us, taking his glasses off.

  “Evenin’, folks,” he said. “Name’s Martin. How can I help ye?”

  “We’re hoping to find two rooms for the night,” I said.

  “No problem,” smiled the dwarf, looking down at his ledger and putting his glasses back on. “I got two next to each other available for 50 quat each.”

  “Huh, that’s shockingly reasonable,” I said. “We’ll take them.”

  “Perfect!” cheered the dwarf.

  “Why are the prices so cheap, if I may ask?” I said, handing over the quat and receiving the two keys.

  “Well, business has been slow recently, if I’m bein honest with ya,” admitted Martin.

  “Oh, is the Lance of Power no longer here?” asked Cassandra, asking what I feared to be the cause.

  “No, that’s just the issue,” said the dwarf with a shake of his head. “We’ve got a museum inside the tower to showcase great items from all across Yaerna, but for over a year now it’s not changed. An entire floor is dedicated to the Lance.”

  “Don’t people want to see such a weapon, though?” I asked.

  “Aye, but not just that!” complained Martin. “Nicole hasn’t let anyone change it since she first brought it in, and we’ve been losing tourists like mad! They come to see it once, then never return!”

  The door behind us open, and the newcomer cleared his throat.

  “Need one room, please,” said the goblin, pushing past us to talk face to face with the dwarf. The goblin had a pair of large goggles on his forehead, and an over sized backpack behind him. The bag was bulging horribly, and looked to burst any second.

  “A third customer!” cheered the dwarf. “Of course! That’ll be 50 quat.”

  “Maha! Reasonable,” muttered the goblin, reaching into his giant bag for his money.

  “Should we kill him?” whispered Cassandra.

  “What?! No!” I hissed back. “He’s just a tourist, trying to stay here for the night!”

  “Look at his bag,” she pointed as he finally found his money and paid the dwarf. “I bet it’s filled with explosives or something. I bet he’s a terrorist.”

  “Wow,” I said, shaking my head as the goblin went down the hall towards his room. “I can’t believe how judgmental you are sometimes.”

  “What? You know I’m right.”

  “No. We just know he paid for his room, and went to go get some sleep,” I said. “I know you’ve had some bad interactions with goblins before, but they aren’t all bad. You’ve got to have more of an open mind.”

  “I’m with the elf, to be honest,” chimed in the dwarf. “The goblin looks like he’s up to no good.”

  “Then why did you give him a room?” I asked.

  “His quat is just as good as anyone else’s,” shrugged Martin. “To be fair, ye two also look like ya could be up to trouble. The lady there is armed to the teeth.”

  “That’s fair,” she agreed.

  “See? How does it feel to be thought of as a terrorist?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t really bother me,” she shrugged.

  “You’re too much,” I said, shaking my head and heading off to my room as well. “Thanks for the keys, Martin. I hope business picks up for you.”

  The dwarf nodded and Cassandra followed after me. As promised, we found our rooms next to each other’s down the hall.

  “We should wake up early to go and talk to the curator before it gets too busy,” I said, unlocking my door.

  “Sounds like a plan,” she smiled, unlocking hers as well and throwing the door open. “Wow, the room is much bigger than I expected.”

  “Sure you don’t want me to keep you company tonight?” I asked, winking at her with a smirk.

  “Actually…” she said, smiling nervously back at me.

  “H-Huh?” I asked, nerves getting the better of me. I was just playing around… was she being serious?

  “Do you think Martin would keep me company?” she asked with a smile. “It’s the gray whiskers. I’m
crazy for them.”

  “Ha. Good one,” I said, feeling my face burn red. I opened my door and hurried in. “Good night.”

  “Night,” she laughed, going into her room as well.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, we said goodbye to Martin and made our way to the tower. We couldn’t see the sun hidden behind the walls as we walked, but already vendors and shoppers had flooded the streets. Making sure not to look at any of them this time, we made a beeline for the tower.

  “When we get in, let’s take note of any exits, stairs, and lifts that we might find,” I said, hand on the tower’s door. “We’ll need all the information we can get if we need to steal the Lance later.”

  Cassandra nodded, and we walked in.

  The main floor was open and mostly bare, except for a female gnome sitting at a table. Two stair cases traveled up on either side of us, with an opening to see down over the rails. The stairs went up several floors, but appeared to stop part of the way up. A lift stood behind the gnome, its doors closed.

  “Welcome to the Tower of Vorova!” said the cheery gnome. “How can we help you today?”

  “Follow my lead,” I whispered to Cassandra, walking forward to talk more easily with the gnome. “Hello there! My wife and I are here from Ravendale, hoping to see the Lance of Power.”

  “Ravendale!” said the gnome. “That’s quite a journey! We’re happy you’re here. All I need from you first is your names.”

  “I’m Rilen Ironhammer, and this is…” I paused, hoping Cassandra could find a quick alias as well.

  “Bertha.”

  I choked and had a coughing fit.

  The gnome looked at me curiously as I tried to recover.

  “Excuse him,” smiled Cassandra, patting me on my back. “He’s got a bit of a cold.”

  The gnome laughed nervously and wrote our names down on a ledger in front of her.

  “Would it be possible for us to talk with the curator as well?” asked the elf. “We would love to hear more about how they found the Lance.”

  “The curator would love to talk with you,” said the gnome. “They can be found on the ninth floor, while the Lance of Power is on the seventh.”

 

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