by G. R. Cooper
He cocked his head.
“Because,” she continued, “a bastard sword, a hand and a half sword, can be used one handed or two handed. So if I really level up either of those, they’ll work with my blacksmithing skill and I can make some really kick ass versions that people with either Large Blade or Two Handed Blade skills can use. I figure that doubles up my market, and I really only have to level up one of those to get there.”
“Then why have both skills?”
“Oh, there are a lot of reasons. Two Handed Blade also covers stuff like glaives, halberds and other pole arms, in addition to the big honkin’ swords like claymores and the Landsknechte zweihander,” she nodded enthusiastically, then noticed Wulfgar’s glazed expression.
“Yeah,” she laughed, “I’m kind of a medieval weapons nerd. But anyway, the main market is in the Large Blade. The one handed swords. Most fighters tend to favor them.”
She looked wistful, “But if I can get my skills up enough and get the contract from the king for the King’s Guard’s halberds, oh man, I’ll be rich!” She began to cackle gleefully before smiling up at Wulfgar, “anyway, that’s the plan.”
“Do you miss it yet?” Lauren asked, looking up at him as they walked, Bear between them, through the crowds moving along the narrow Edonis streets. They’d left her shop, planning on entering the middle, interior part of the city. The part of the city that had been dug through the mountain to connect the plains with the vast ocean to the East.
“Miss what?” he asked as they dodged a running child.
“You’ll know,” she laughed, “when you miss it.”
He looked down at her, raised one eyebrow.
“So, you’re not going to tell me?”
“Nope. But, trust me, you’ll miss it before too long.”
They rounded the street and entered the westernmost part of the King’s Square. The square, really a long rectangle, was simply a wide open area between the northwest gate and the gate to Clive’s Keep. They turned, to their right, and moved into the open area and toward the keep.
“This quest,” she began, “is in the catacombs?”
“I believe so. All I know is that the Rat King of Light said that the Rat King of Dark’s territory was in the mountain.”
She nodded.
“The dwarves will know, if anyone does, where to go. I do a lot of business with them. Repairing mining and carving tools and the like.”
She moved them through the square toward the right side of the keep’s wall. He assumed they’d follow the outside of that wall until they’d entered the mountain. The buildings seemed to curve around the outside of the wall, so he thought that there’d be a street that followed it.
As they approached the center of the square, he noticed that the stocks were being emptied of the two guards that had been there since the previous day. Wulfgar made a note to be looking away from them as they passed.
The trio of adventurers reached the interior end of the square and, as Wulfgar had expected, they turned off into a street that curved around the outside of the keep’s wall and toward the mountain range whose heights loomed ever closer.
The crowds, funneled into closeness by the narrower streets, pushed Wulfgar and Lauren closer together.
“Do you have any more information about what we’re doing?” she asked.
“Nope. We just go see the king. Try to end the war. Seems kind of silly, really.”
“That’s OK, experience points are experience points. This is easier than heading out on some wild goose chase across the valley. Hopefully, we can wrap this up by lunchtime and be back before you know it. Hopefully.”
Wulfgar’s eyes were drawn upward as they got closer to the mountain face. He could just make out a large archway - large enough that it looked like it covered several streets - that began at the keep wall and stretched toward the city’s outer ramparts. As they reached it, he saw that the streets and lines of buildings continued in through the opening. He was impressed.
Once through the massive arched opening, into the maw of the mountain, it opened into a vast, high and long cavern. Within, beautifully carved from the stone, the street proceeded flanked by row houses, each with its own set of steps that rose from the cobble carved roadway. At the border of each house, a column rose to the ceiling far above and from each column hung a series of large lanterns that rose from three meters to the roof. The lantern light, reflected around the cavern by the fluting in the polished columns, lit the area such that there was no discernible difference in the level of light when they entered into the mountain’s heart.
“This is where the rich folk live,” said Lauren, looking around in the wonder that Wulfgar felt. “Hopefully, someday, I’ll be able to afford one of these places.”
“And here, someday isn’t just a wish, is it?”
“True,” she answered as she turned off the main street into an alleyway. “This way should bring us into some dwarves. They’re the ones who build all of this.”
The narrow close connected to a small, but still well lit, street that paralleled the main avenue behind the row of mansions. She turned again, heading to her right, toward the center of the mountain, until they found a small doorway carved into the otherwise featureless left-hand wall. She knocked as she entered, and Wulfgar, trailed by Bear, followed through.
The interior of the room was larger than the little door suggested, and was lined with rows of shelving containing shovels, picks, hammers and other mining tools. The room was otherwise empty, except for a desk near the front, behind which sat a gray, wizened dwarf. The dwarf was busy, writing in a leather bound notebook, though how anyone could see to write through the long curly beard that spread on the desk was beyond Wulfgar.
Lauren looked back and whispered.
“Be careful with your personal pronouns,” she lowered her voice even further, “Narri is female.” She turned back to the dwarf.
“Hiya, Narri!” Lauren beamed. “Got any tools that need repaired? Any sharpening required?”
Narri just shook her head, then looked up and smiled. She pulled a short, smoking, clay pipe from her mouth. “Not today, dear. The miners have heard of a new vein, found to the north. They’re off. Probably won’t be back for months.” She waggled the pipe in Lauren’s direction, “Mark my words, King Clive will be no happy about the delays in the excavation but,” she shrugged, “what can you do? Gold in the ground fires a dwarven heart more than gold in the treasury, as we say.”
“In that case, you should be free for dinner. Tonight? At the Gilded Pumpkin?”
Narri nodded, smiling.
“Oh, I’m a jerk!” said Lauren, turning to Wulfgar, “May I introduce my friend Wulfgar and his better half, Bear!”
Trying to keep from laughing, Wulfgar bent at the waist as deeply as he could.
“May your beard be ever curly, and your veins rich and never ending!”
“You have gained in reputation with the Dwarven kind. They are now friendly toward you!”
“What a charmer,” laughed Narri, “I’d be delighted to have dinner with you all.”
“Great! We’ll see you then,” laughed Lauren. “But there’s one other thing I need from you. Where would you go if you wanted to get into the caverns. We have to find some rats.”
Narri nodded her head toward the rear of the room, “There’s a hole in the back, but we don’t go down there,” she puffed on her pipe, “as we have kind of a truce with the Rat King of Dark. We stay out of there, and he stays out of our excavations.” She frowned, shaking her head, “I rue the day that King Clive decrees we have to build further into the heart of the mountain. I don’t know what we’ll do.”
Lauren nodded, “Yeah, that will suck. But for now, we have business with the rat king, so that sounds like just the way we need to go.”
Narri nodded, “It is, but I’m afraid I can be of no further help. I’m unfamiliar with the caves in that direction.”
Lauren took Wulfgar’s arm and pu
lled him toward the back of the room, “That’s OK, Narri, you’ve been a huge help. Dinner is on me tonight!”
They walked through the caves, Lauren, as the tank, leading, flanked by Bear with Wulfgar bringing up the rear. As they neared the first fork in their path, Lauren turned to Wulfgar and motioned for him to turn around. He felt her open his small backpack and begin to root around through it. After a moment, he felt her close the top and tighten the straps. He turned to look at her.
She held up a lantern and a hunk of chalk, which she handed him before opening the lantern. She stepped back and made some small movements with her hands while muttering what sounded like nonsense.
The lantern’s wick burst into flame and she closed the glass.
Wulfgar looked at her, raised one eyebrow.
“Just a little level one magic,” she smiled, “better than trying to light it with a flint and steel. We’ll have to get you similar learnin’ before too long.”
“Anyone can learn magic?” he asked.
“Yup. You just need the minimum intelligence and magic level for the spell, then you can buy the scroll and learn the spell. The scrolls are very expensive,” she rubbed her steel clad fingers together, “muy espensivo! But once you read the scroll, you know the spell. I just know the one spell, Light. Lets me light up lanterns and torches. No offensive capability,” she shrugged, “but that’s what this is for,” she laughed, pulling her sword from its sheath.
She nodded toward the side of the cavern wall and pointed at the chalk in Wulfgar’s hand.
“Make an arrow, pointing back the way we came. Do that at each intersection we come to. I have no desire to get lost down here.”
He nodded and did as she instructed, then turned back to her.
She handed him the lantern, “I’m gonna need my hands free, just in case.” She reached down with her newly freed left hand and scratched Bear behind the jaw, “Do you think you can find the rats for us, cutie pie?”
Bear turned, looked first to the left, then the right, chose the right hand turn and moved forward.
As they moved through the caverns, some smaller, some larger, Wulfgar began to think back on the past few days. They had become a blur of activity, of new information, and he worried that it might serve to distract him from his real quest. To find Shannon. They stopped in a larger cavern, with several exits. Bear moved off to sniff each one. Wulfgar joined Lauren in the middle of the room.
“Lauren,” he whispered, “when you said never to give anyone your true name, well, why? What can happen?”
She looked up at him, her usual laughing mien now serious.
“Any number of things, really. It can be used to curse you, from pretty much anywhere. And if they’re in your presence, they can use your name to magnify any spells directed against you.”
“Good or bad?”
“Well, yeah. But it’s not worth the risk. Trust me, the fewer people who know your real name, the better.”
He nodded. Then thought for a moment.
“Say, for example, that I knew someone’s true name. Is there a spell that I can use to find them?”
She frowned, looked thoughtful.
“I think so. Maybe.” She shrugged, “But I’m not the one to ask. I’m just a hammer jockey,” she smiled. “Why? Is there someone you’re looking for?”
He shook his head vigorously.
“Nope, it was just something I was wondering about. How your name could be used against you, that is.”
She nodded as Bear rejoined him and, forgetting their conversation, she said to the dog, “Did you find the way, boy?”
Bear turned and moved toward one of the holes. He stopped, looked back to ensure that the humans were following, then moved into it.
Wulfgar stopped at the entrance, made a chalk note in the wall, describing where to look for the arrow that would lead them out of this cross-roads, and thought about what Lauren had said.
If you knew someone’s real name. The name they’d been born with. On Earth. There might be a spell you could use to find them.
He knew Shannon’s full, true name.
Lauren held up her hand, signaling Wulfgar to stop. Bear, nearing the next cavern in the catacombs, had frozen, crouched - his fur looked to be standing on end and Wulfgar felt more than heard a low, rumbling growl from the dog. Warm, flickering light shimmered around the corner past Bear and Wulfgar lifted the lantern and blew out the flame before joining Lauren.
“Wait here,” he whispered, “let me see what’s going on.” He moved quietly past Bear, patting the dog to silence him, and peeked around the corner. A few torches, stuck into nooks in the cavern wall, lit a scene of quiet desperation. A number of large rats - maybe a dozen by his quick reckoning - were cornered, back to back, fighting off several small, green, humanoids; each about a meter tall, but well armed and armored. Apart from the occasional grunt from random combatants, the fight was eerily quiet. Wulfgar felt Lauren join him at his left elbow.
“Kobolds,” she whispered. “Like little orcs. Mean bastards.” He felt her tug his left arm, “I’m going to move in on their left flank and hit them hard, screaming. You wait for an opening and then do your back stabbing stuff, OK?”
He nodded and pulled his blade from its sheath on his back as she moved into the room, as quietly as she could, beckoning Bear to follow her.
Wulfgar moved into the cavern and began to work his way around to the right. The kobolds, grouped near the far end of the room, were all facing away, toward the rats that they had cornered. As he saw Lauren get to within a few meters of the cluster, he began walking toward the nearest kobold, engrossed in its fight with a particularly large rat.
As he reached the halfway point, about six meters from the fight, he activated stealth and brought his right arm high, readying the blade for attack.
Lauren’s scream, followed closely by Bear’s howl, reverberated off the cavern walls just as Wulfgar reached the fight. He brought his right arm down and forward, as hard as he could.
“7 points of damage!”
“12 points of damage, Hidden Stab!”
He felt the sword twist in his hand as it entered the kobold’s back, turned as it passed through the smaller creature’s ribcage. Bile rose in Wulfgar’s throat as he felt the blade scrape on the kobold’s bones. It sank to its knees, dropping to little more than knee-high to Wulfgar, as it let out a gurgling moan that sounded, to Wulfgar, as if one of its lungs had been punctured. It twisted, pulling the blade from Wulfgar’s hand, and it fell onto its side, a keening, high scream erupting from its mouth along with frothy, pink bubbles.
Shocked, Wulfgar stared down at the writhing creature, its teeth bared in a grimace of agony, as it tried to reach one of its long, spindly arms around to its back to get at the blade. It hissed and groaned, as oblivious as Wulfgar to the fight surrounding them. It coughed several times, its long pointed nose and ears shaking comically, before its eyes rolled back and it stopped moving with a long, wet, sigh. This wasn’t like fighting the rat. That had been like sticking a knife into a fresh loaf of bread. This was different. More real.
Sickened, Wulfgar stared down at the little creature, which looked pathetic and helpless curled on the floor of the cavern. He began to wonder, was this an AI? He knew that some - or all - of the Arn and Canis Arcturus were not. They were feeling, sentient creatures. Was this thing on the floor like that? Was it just an AI? And if it was, so what? What was he, really, now if nothing more than an AI. He had no physical entity any longer.
He came back to his senses as someone shook his left arm.
“Hey, buddy, you OK?”
Wulfgar, shaken from his thoughts, looked up to Lauren. She looked concerned.
“You OK?” she repeated.
He looked around. The rest of the kobolds had been spread around the room. None of them moving. Bear sat near the middle of them, on his haunches, licking one of his paws. He looked back to Lauren.
“Yeah. I’m OK. You?”
He shook his head, “Yeah, I’m OK. Really,” he assured her. “It’s just that, you know, in the Omegaverse, I killed lots of creatures. Lots. But somehow, with a knife, in the back …”
“It’s more personal than a plasma rifle, yeah,” she nodded, smiling sympathetically. “Just remember, they’re AI. They’re not real,” she bent and pulled Wulfgar’s blade from the kobold’s back, cleaning it on the dead creature’s shirt before handing it back to him.
He nodded, sheathing the weapon, then looked back up to Bear. The dog was still licking one of its forelegs. One of the smaller rats approached the dog, warily.
“She would like to know,” said a small, sibilant voice to Wulfgar’s right. He looked, and saw he was being addressed by one of the larger rats, “if she can safely approach the beast. To heal it.”
Wulfgar looked back to the dog, “Take it easy, Bear. It’s OK. Give her your paw,” he smiled as the dog, easily twice the size of the little rat, raised his left paw to her. She moved in and began using her small, human-like hands, to wrap Bear’s wounds.
Wulfgar looked back to the rat as it continued speaking.
“My thanks,” it said, “you have arrived just in time.”
“And mine,” said another equally gigantic rodent, standing apart from the first rat. It had several smaller, but still large, rats arrayed around its flanks. As Wulfgar watched, the first rat’s people moved in behind it. It looked, to Wulfgar, like a standoff.
“You’re welcome,” said Wulfgar looking between the two groups, then, to the first, “do I have the honor of addressing the Rat King of Dark?”
“You do,” said the first, “and he is in your debt.”
“As is,” said the leader of the second group, “the Rat King of Wet.”
Wulfgar looked from one king to the other and back, unsure of what to do. The kobold attack had interrupted what had already been a fairly intense confrontation between the dark and wet kings. From what Wulfgar could understand, the argument had been much the same as the light king’s complaint - the wet king was pushing into the dark king’s territory. He looked to the king on his left who, true to his title, had almost black fur, unlike the lighter gray of the light and wet kings.