by M J Sweeney
After smacking my fingers for the fifth time and ricocheting the tip of his staff off my gloved-hands into my helmeted head, he kept up a running commentary.
“Now, if you want to see real talent within this weapon, then you’ll have to try the Holy Order of the Implacable Mind—monks of great skill with psyche and weapons, devoted to self-control and self-awareness. Now, can you tell what you’re doing wrong there? You’ve got to get upper guard on me. Even though I’m taller, you can’t let me take the high position every time. Lure me in, sucker me with your devious ways, and then batta-bam! Strike. That was a good try.” He’d brained me yet again. “The hands are vulnerable; the neck is vulnerable. Use the weak spots and thrust! Tight circles. Don’t bash! It’s a piercing weapon; use the pointy end of the stick!”
Even when I used Stoic for the first time and thought to pound my way through, his eyes seemed to catch what I was doing, and he simply backed off, dancing out of reach until the five-second cooldown expired. Then he was back, quick as a flash, scoring along my leather-bound hands with the head of his staff, making me drop my weapon. Again.
“Ha!” he laughed. “Good idea, old chap, but not quick enough—you’ll need to be faster than that!”
My progression with the weapon-skill had slowed a lot (I was sitting on a skill of 55), but I was getting a better feel for the nuances, and the more people and creatures I fought with different styles and abilities, the better I got. Eventually, I removed the training helmet—a classic fencer’s mask with light metal plates on the exterior and the standard wire mesh in front.
“Thank you for the lessons, sir.”
“Progress, Cordaen. Sure and steady progress.”
That week, Geras Anandiel, the capital of the elven nation, welcomed all comers for the Festival of Lights. It marked the very end of winter—the last of the long dark nights and the season’s turning to fresh spring. The Great Tree was indeed lit up like a Christmas tree, pixie lights adorning its exterior. When I got close to the tree, I could see swarms and swarms of airborne fairies, floating and flying and lying on the exterior of the green giant. They cast their fairy lights, which would last an hour or two in any colour of the rainbow, then slowly fade. Then they would cast again. It was a sight to behold, and went on for a week. There was much celebration, drunken frivolity, and muddy cheering in the rain.
I spent not a few of those days and nights playing at the Popina, learning a few more up-tempo tunes to charm the masses of dwarfs that now crowded in. Some nights I could barely squeeze into the place, taking elbows in my privates on more than one occasion. Plus, dwarf boots are heavy, hobnailed, and rather unfeeling—my feet were raw and bloody for days afterward. But it was certainly fun, if smelly, though I was getting used to that as well.
Chapter 24
On the last night of that, just after the New Year (it was now 2050), I walked back to my room from the tavern, the haft of my spear clacking into the cobblestones as I went. My elbow leaves started twitching—that was the first warning. As I looked about wildly, the next warning I had was when a cloud of gas erupted at my feet. Then came a sharp impact to my chest, and another cloud of gas erupted into my face. Belatedly, I could hear the sound of breaking glass. Holding my spear out in front of me instinctively, I couldn’t help taking a big gulp of air in surprise. The taste was foul, burning the back of my throat. I shuffle-skipped out of the immediate area and managed a few charging steps before I suddenly felt dizzy. And a few abbreviated steps later, my vision going foggy, I fell to my knees.
“Get up…” I struggled to stand. “Can’t get up…” I put one hand down and eventually slumped forward.
Chapter 25
“You’re a tough one. And heavy for an elf. Must have allocated a few points to vitality eh?” I heard.
I groggily came back to consciousness and found myself propped up against a wall. A figure was squatting besides me, his rodent-like face staring at me dispassionately.
“Weasel-f—” I began, but thought better of it.
“Now, see, that’s not a good start.” He shook his head in mock sadness. “You’ll recover soon enough.”
“Why… what…” My tongue felt thick with glue and tasted foul, like acid and bile.
“The what isn’t important. But the why… You see, squirt, you fouled up some plans. And the guildmaster doesn’t like that, no indeed. So you see, this is just a friendly warning. A little love-tap, so to speak. Stay away from the Popina. Stay away from Big Nose. If you do that, all will be forgiven, despite the slur to my good name.” He touched his long nose. “And the damage done to Hagard Hagstrom.”
“Why?” I managed again.
“That’s about as much of the why as I’m answering, squirt. You don’t need to know the details. Just stay away from the Popina. You understanding me?”
Slowly I nodded, not understanding at all. But I got the point. Silently, I activated Identify and tried squinting at his name, but still only saw:
+ Male Gold Dwarf +
It seemed he could suppress his name from my spell somehow.
“Now, just so you know the seriousness of the situation, I have taken this.” He held up one of my magic rings. “A worthless trinket to us, but a reminder to you not to fuck with the guild. I’d take something more valuable, personally, but orders are orders. All right. Gotta go. Pleasant dreams, squirt.” He slapped me in the face a little hard with that, then walked off out of my field of view.
I sat there for a little, unable or unwilling to move. I played back the scenario, and what led to it, in my head. In the end, I decided there was nothing much I could have done to change things. Eventually, I got up and staggered back to my quarters.
My sleep that night was disturbed with bouts of violent hacking, strange dreams, and tingling pains in my armpits. Unsure what that was about, I had to hope it wasn’t permanent.
The next morning, I lay in bed and debated finding a healer. There’d be one right at the church barracks where I was staying. But feeling unsure of my next step, I hesitated. I felt physically better for the most part, so eventually I got up and looked up some info through the interface.
Generally it was impossible to scans someone’s details (name, class, abilities, or even race if they were unknown) unless you asked them first. And the latter was considered very rude unless you were close friends. If you had really high perception and lore, or Identify as an ability or spell, you could begin detailing someone. With greater ability and lore skill, the + symbol showed up to indicate adventurers or elite monsters (you couldn’t tell this from a casual glance), and even more skill to determine what class they were and what abilities they had at their disposal. It was a definite advantage if you were spying on someone and had the time to look.
Some monsters and adventurers (such as specialised rogues) could suppress detection of their name, class, and skills through an ability called Obscurity. If you reduced your aggro statistic, this also made you much harder to identify and detect. It would make sense for a rogue to get these abilities, to protect themselves from scrying and other magical forms of detection. If you had some shape-changing ability—which dark dwarfs were actually renowned for—this would be very important.
Later that day, I returned to my classes at the college. Initially, I told no one of the event, and with some confusion avoided the Popina for a few days. I had received the following notification:
/ You have been Mugged - Poisoned and Robbed /
/ You have 1 week to report the crime to Unity before the case closes / Accept Y / N
[1 item stolen - Minor Ring of Fire Resistance]
I continued with my classes at the Bard’s College, and also with my personal research. We were making progress with the old alfar script. This is what we had so far:
With Maor on the Rise and Iss at Lowest (ebb) ?
On the (?) Day that Ei is Cast in (shadow) (darkness) (turmoil) ??
Shall the Fallen Rise and go Forth
As the Seas
ons (turn) (change) (grow) ?? and the Stars Align
Then Maor’s Power shall Shine Down more Powerful than Before,
And the Fallen Shall Rise in Multiplicity
There were three stanzas; we were still working on the last one. It mentioned different obscure locations, the seelie races, and finished with “and the fallen shall rise.” Nice, uplifting kind of stuff, no?
After a couple days of procrastinating, I went and found Drognad on his day off. He was staying at the Lawgiver’s Enclave—a gnomish settlement built into the side of a hill under a small grove of elm trees by the east gate. He had a room in a series of clean little hollowed-out caves (he wasn’t allowed to sleep outside in Geras) and although I wasn’t that tall, I still had to bend over to pass through the wooden doorways.
When I told Drognad about being mugged, he shook his head sadly. “I think ya know what I think of this and what I think ya should do.”
I smiled wryly. “Yes, more or less. Just needed a bit of moral support, you know?”
He smiled back. “Shall I tell you how we gnomes face such things?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“When one of the clan is threatened, it threatens the whole clan. And it’s the same in reverse. What ya may not know is that fer an individual gnome in this situation, he would take it as a point of pride to make himself a target—fer the good of the clan. That doesn’t mean I would be foolish about it. Just presenting opportunities.”
“I guess I can see that. It’s just I have no real defence again this kind of group, or attack, or whatever it is.”
“Yes, you feel exposed, and ‘tis only natural. But foolish or not, they have exposed themselves also, and that makes them weak. You know more than you did before, no? Little as it may be.”
“Yes… I can see that too.”
“And I would also say that ya have friends here. That priest Marcus, the dwarfs at the Popina, and some of my uncles here in the enclave might put in a good word for you.” I thought about that for a moment. He was right. Smart little gnome!
I retrieved some more of the alchemical vials for translation and left the enclave to head south to Whistle-blowers’ Avenue. Time to face the music, so to speak.
When I reported the crime, I was expecting some kind of indifferent bureaucratic service, but instead I was taken to a side office, sat down at a table and chairs, and given a private interview by a rather cute female elf in patrol uniform. I gave her my name and particulars and the details of the duel with Hagard, including why it had occurred and a description of both him and Weasel-Face. The best description I came up with there was “long pointy nose, brown hair, beard, balding on top, short even for a gold-dwarf, wearing studded leather and a short sword and dagger.”
I wasn’t sure if that was enough to go on, so when I mentioned we were both adventurers, the interviewer surprised me by saying, “Oh, so from an alternate plane, from earth?”
I blinked in surprise and nodded yes. “The dwarf seems to have some ability to suppress his name and particulars,” I added.
“Ah yes, maybe a rogue with the obscure ability. Still, it’s not an insurmountable problem. His physical description may be enough to track him down.” She smiled encouragingly at me. I was half-tempted to ask her for a date then and there, but suppressed the urge.
I also described the ring that had been stolen, but as it would look like a dozen other such items, there wasn’t much chance of getting that back. She was polite and seemed sincere, and told me they would do their best to find the one called “weasel-face,” grinning slightly at the epithet.
“We will look for the accomplice, this Hagard, as finding one may lead to the other. It’s likely he can be found if his whereabouts are fairly well-known by others in the city,” she explained. I thought that likely, considering their two professions—warrior versus sneaky rogue. I didn’t tell her that the reason they had mugged me seemed to be more about keeping me away from the Popina than my fight with Hagard. No need to cause Big Nose any trouble.
Next, I went to Anzan’s Exotics and looked at his rings. He had many, including Rings of Protection from Fire, Frost, Storm, Poison, and Disease. There were Amulets of Mental Resistance and Amulets of Mana Renewal, but as they were out of my price range and couldn’t be worn with my holy symbol, that was a no-go.
The Greater Ring of Fire Resistance (+20%) and Greater Ring of Poison Resistance (+20%) were five zorb each. There were standard (+10%) and minor (+5%) versions of those for three zorb and one zorb each respectively, but I didn’t consider them. In the end, I couldn’t afford much, so I got one Greater Ring of Fire Resistance (red ruby) and one Greater Ring of Poison Resistance (yellow citrine). This meant I was now wearing three rings, one minor fire resistance, one greater fire resistance, and one greater poison resistance.
Lastly, I saw that he had permanent Stones of Light for nine zorb each, which came in a soft velvet pouch. When you pulled out the rock—usually quartz crystal—it gave clear light, a bit like a bright full moon, in a ten-metre radius. I thought it a little expensive, as they couldn’t be used to dispel a rogue’s fade ability. But he also had some non-permanent stones that had ten charges each, and each charge would last for twelve hours. These cost only eight dran each, so I got five of those.
With the new rings, this put my total Poison Resistance to 29%, which wasn’t so bad, and my Fire Resistance to 24%, which was also fine. And that was despite the -20% wood elf vulnerability to flames. As I was also receiving a good bonus to elemental resistance due to my matching set of journeyman elven leather armour, I was feeling a lot more robust.
Most resistances were capped at 75%, but could be exceeded with a high luck statistic or magic items that raised the resistance cap. This put my funds down to one zorb and a fair bit of change. I would need to find work again soon.
After some consideration I told both Marcus and Big Nose of the situation with the rogue’s guild. They both promised to do their best for me. Big Nose in particular had any available dwarfs walk with me to and from the Bard’s College. I had decided to move into the Bard’s College, as I got free accommodation there after paying my fees, and could no longer afford to stay out. I also didn’t wander the streets in the evening anymore, and was careful to stay on the main thoroughfares. I wasn’t sure if there was much more I could do—I didn’t want to stay paranoid forever.
After asking around for jobs and quests for a few days, I eventually found work through one of the dwarven miners. After an introduction from Big Nose, I met the friendly chap, Ligan Gondarsbatt. He was gathering a group of “stout lads” to help exterminate an infestation of tunnel-worms that had invaded an iron mine to the west, not far north from my Tree. It was only a seven-day journey on horse. It paid fairly well, but I did have to buy a horse. As I couldn’t afford anything decent and knew little of horses, I got a “rental with offer to buy” from the Bard’s College. One of the female elven teachers, a moon elf by the name of Sharisse, offered to teach me more riding skills when I returned.
Ligan had gathered five other dwarfs together for the task and, as none of them had healing skills, they had been happy to include me as well. I made them lucky seven, with which the others seemed pleased. They were all warriors of various descriptions, and had been pulled from other mines so as not to create a shortage of workers at any one site. The arrangement was to kill the infestation or drive them off, and to lure out the queen and kill her as a bonus. Any iron from the mine was considered property of Ligan and his clan, but as the worms were known to digest various gems and process them somehow in their internal system, any such leavings were considered fair rights for looting.
/ Help Ligan Gondarsbatt Clear the East-Ingkall Mine in the Upper Gorn /
[Drive off or Kill the Tunnel Worms]
/ Bonus experience and coins for slaying the Worm Queen /
We got paid four jeb per day of travel, and two dran per day of combat. Ligan told me it should only take a week tops. They were all mo
untain dwarfs, and on friendly terms with Big Nose, who was considered a bit of a local hero. Ligan had blond hair and beard and blue eyes, but was no less stout and strong than the rest of his darker-haired brothers. Apparently he was from “up north.”
We headed west on the main road, then north over a bridge where the roads got a little wider and easier, toward the mountains Gorn Anandiel. This was about two or three days north of my tree, I estimated, which was on the western edge of Telveer Baum, the sprite forest. The particular mountain range was under the purview of the High Elven King, but he rented the land, so to speak, to a few mountain dwarf clans with whom they were friendly. The dwarfs would complain about the rental fee from time to time, but as the return from the mines was quite good, the arrangement seemed profitable for all.
We camped each night by the side of the road, and didn’t push the horses or ponies. I collected a range of aches and pains in my legs and back, but the tan and white gelding that had been chosen for me was calm and steady, and not prone to being difficult.
On the second night, when I went out of earshot to take a leak, I had another warning from elbow leaves. Unfortunately though, my hurry to tie off my armour and grab my spear, cost me precious seconds. Next I felt a sudden pricking through my leather armour, and an arm tightened around my neck with a hand over my mouth. My spear was just out of reach. Shit. Idiot.