by Aleron Kong
One of the archers chuckled slightly, but cut off when Richter looked at him sharply and said, “Not helping.”
The guard looked down and said, “Sorry, my lord.”
Richter just shook his head, “Read the room, guy.” With a heavy sigh, the chaos seed looked at Shinecatcher again. “You cannot have the gem, but if you tell me what I need to know, I’ll give you this.” He reached into his Bag of Holding and pulled out a high steel dagger enchanted with Life Damage.
The kindir’s eyes lit up, “Oooooh. Is it enchanted? It is enchanted! What is it enchanted with? Wait, let me guess. Is it a dagger that causes boils? Does it cook meat while you cut with it? Can it make you stop farting? Can it make you start? My uncle makes a stew that does that.” His grin widened and he drew in an excited breath, “I could call it the stew dagger!”
Richter looked at the little man in amazement. That entire speech had only taken about five seconds. He had no idea how the kindir’s little chest had been able to hold enough air to say all that in one breath. Holding up a hand quickly to stop any further guesses, he said, “It’s a High Steel Dagger of Life Damage. It will be very effective against Death creatures.”
“Ooooooooh,” Shinecatcher said, even longer this time. The kindir reached for the dagger, but Richter kept it out of reach. His head still throbbed. If that really had been what the Bard could do with just an acorn, he wasn’t eager to arm the kindir with a blade.
Shinecatcher looked at the blade for another few seconds, until a considering look came into his eyes, “Are you good at killing undead?”
“We do not have time for this, my lord,” Caulder protested.
Richter raised a hand to quiet him. The sergeant wasn’t wrong, but his trade skill had just activated. He could “smell” that there was a deal to be made. “We kill undead,” Richter answered cautiously.
“I live that way,” Shinecatcher said, pointing south. “There is a cave full of undead that has appeared near my people. If you agree to destroy the boners and groaners, I’m sure the kindir elders will tell you how we can see in the grey. They might even share the recipe. Oh, and I get to keep the dagger. Will you help? I know my people would really appreciate it!”
Unbidden, a prompt appeared in Richter’s vision.
You have been offered a Quest: Helping Hand I
You have encountered a new race. The kindir are somehow immune to your settlement spell, Confusing Mists. Shinecatcher says that he will tell you the secret of their immunity if you destroy a nest of undead near his home. Though it is unclear what type of Death creatures these are, you assume ‘boners’ might mean skeletons. On the other hand, you could be completely wrong. What does seem clear, from what the kindir let slip about a “recipe,” is that the secret may have something to do with a potion.
Success Conditions: Destroy the nest of undead
Rewards:
Introduction to the kindir elders to learn the secret of their immunity to the mists.
Increased Relationship with his people.
Penalty for failure or refusal of Quest: Unknown
Do you accept? Yes or No
To accept this quest, you must give the Life Damage dagger to Shinecatcher.
Richter read through the quest. Before he made a decision though, he needed to know something, “How far away do your people live?”
“Oh, not far,” Shinecatcher said, shrugging.
Richter sighed. He needed a better answer. The problem was that his domain extended south for another seven or eight miles. He pulled his map out. “Can you show me?” He mentally positioned the map so that it only showed the southern half of his domain. After a minute of studying it, Shinecatcher pointed with his finger at a spot only three miles south.
Map Updated! Kinder settlement added.
A new icon appeared on the map. It looked like a tiny hut and was well within Richter’s domain. “How long have you all been there?” he asked. Was there really a whole settlement of people that he just had no idea about? With a ten-mile radius, his domain was over three hundred square miles of untouched wilderness, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, but it did make Richter uneasy. Even if the kindir weren’t a threat, it didn’t mean that other settlements wouldn’t be. Exploration was still something that needed to be stressed.
Shinecatcher shrugged again, unaware of the chaos seed’s concerns, “We come and go, but usually come back at least once a year.”
Richter shook his head. The man was a veritable font of information. The quest prompt was still hanging in his vision. One thing was sure; he needed to know how the kindir could see in the mists. He really didn’t want to torture the guy to find out, and it was clear the kindir wasn’t about to just tell him. There wasn’t really a choice; he had to accept the quest.
Before he did that though, he’d see if he could add in his own proviso, “I will accept your offer if you promise to tell your people first, then come to my village and guide us there in three days.” This guy was definitely a little squirrelly. If that was indicative of his people, then it was entirely possible that they might start shooting Richter’s war party full of something a lot worse than acorns when they got close.
Shinecatcher seemed to ponder the idea for a moment before saying, “Well, I was planning on heading into Law to sell this new crystal I found.”
Caulder started shaking the man. Really shaking him! The kindir was doing a bobble head impression for a good three or four seconds before Richter held out his hand to stop the sergeant. It had the desired effect though.
After blinking several times, Shinecatcher looked back at Richter, “After much consideration, however, I agree to your terms.”
“Say it two more times,” Richter said. “Or,” he added sharply, before Shinecatcher could protest, “I will let Sergeant Caulder try and get the information out of you now. This quest will help both of us, but I need to be absolutely sure that you will return. I will have your vow.” His tone was as hard as steel.
For the first time, the innocence fled Shinecatcher’s face and his expression turned grave. He looked from Richter’s deadly serious face to Caulder’s smiling expression, which was no less dangerous. He knew he was out of options. “I will appear at your village in three days’ time and guide you to my settlement. I swear it. I swear it. I swear it.”
“Thrice heard and witnessed,” Richter intoned. All of his men repeated the ritual words.
Shinecatcher has made you a Vow. Failure to fulfill the terms when asked will cause a decrease in his reputation with all beings, and other unknown consequences. Keep in mind, your word means everything!
The quest prompt changed in Richter’s vision to include this new proviso. He selected “Yes.”
“We don’t have any more time to waste,” the chaos seed said. He still didn’t like the idea of releasing Shinecatcher, but the truth was Richter had mostly been bluffing. He and his men still needed to see the army safely back to the village, and this whole affair had lost them thirty minutes. Now that he had the kindir’s vow and the quest, he felt much better about letting him go. “Cut him loose.”
Caulder looked like he’d been asked to chew glass, but he did as he was told. Richter kept his part of the bargain and handed over the Life dagger.
“It was great meeting all of you,” Shinecatcher said brightly. His previous serious expression disappeared like words on the wind. Now that he was free, he wasted no time and started walking away. Before he disappeared into the forest, he stopped and waved both hands at the warband, “Thanks for the daggers, and I’ll see you soon!” There was a blade in both of his hands.
“Daggers?” Caulder repeated questioningly. Then his hand shot to his belt, finding only an empty sheath. “That dirty bastard!” He took a step towards the kindir, but the man had already disappeared into the forest. A mocking song rose into the air from the direction he’d gone, quickly fading away.
Shaking his head at the inanity of life, Richter told Caulder t
o just let it go. The biomancers had healed the few small injuries the guards had sported, and everyone was almost at a hundred percent. A minute later they were moving again, but the sergeant didn’t stop cursing for at least a mile.
CHAPTER 6 – Day 141 – Kuborn 31, 0 AoC
Thankfully, nothing else leaped out of the woods to attack them. Both Richter and Caulder were in strung-out shape. The chaos seed could feel his reaction time diminishing, and a Tired debuff appeared on his interface. Even the guards that hadn’t been part of the goblin raid were flagging after an eight-mile hump over unbroken wilderness. It was with profound relief that Richter finally heard Alma’s voice in his mind. At their current Psi Bond rank, their maximum communication rank was fifteen hundred yards, almost a mile, but at least he knew an end was in sight.
Richter had been getting concerned as they got closer to the edge of his domain. The question “Where are they?” had kept shooting through his mind, along with other, darker musings. He had reminded himself that the army was slowed down with wounded, but he couldn’t help worrying and thinking that they should have come across them by now. The dragonling’s voice was a balm soothing his troubled mind. As soon as she was in range, Alma sent visual information. His map updated and he knew the returning army’s exact position. Richter adjusted his warband’s course to angle north slightly and told his men they would be reunited with the army soon.
*Master, are you alright?* Alma’s tone was thick with concern.
Richter’s response was tired, but reassuring. *I’m fine, love. Is the army okay?*
*Some of the prisoners are hurt badly from their captivity. No one has died though.*
*Were there any attacks since the army left the valley?*
*No, master.*
At her response, Richter breathed a sigh of relief, but it begged another question. *Then why aren’t you closer?*
Her answer made him curse loudly. Sion and Caulder looked at him, but he just firmed his lips and shook his head. The warband picked up the pace while he berated himself. The reason the army wasn’t closer was because he was a damn moron! He had forgotten to give the freed captives immunity to the mists!
Even after seeing how distressed the prisoners that had been transported with him had been, Richter hadn’t put two and two together. Honestly, he’d been completely distracted by the emergence of the Dungeon. His error was inexcusable. Richter just started thinking about these abused and battered people having to stumble through the enchantment. They wouldn’t have been able to see more than five feet in front of their faces!
Even worse, the magic of the mists would intentionally lead them off course. The only way they could have made it through was if each prisoner was paired with a soldier that had immunity to the village’s defensive magic. That of course meant that it would be nigh impossible for his fighting men and women to form a cohesive defense against any possible monster attacks. Richter’s grimace deepened. The prisoners must be scared shitless. The fact that they had even made it two miles through the mists over rough terrain was actually impressive.
*I’m on my way, love,* he promised her. *I will give them all immunity as soon as I get there.*
*Oh. There is no need, master. I gave all of the prisoners immunity.*
Richter blinked in surprise. *You can do that?*
She thought back smugly, *I can do many things, master. Our bond has deepened.*
Richter exhaled in relief. Alma explained that while it had taken a significant amount of time to give everyone immunity, it was the prisoners’ overall poor health after captivity that had slowed their pace. The chaos seed thought about just how lucky he was to have such great support. Rather than slow down, he told the warband that their goal was only a mile away, and that they should pick up the pace. There were a few groans, but everyone did as he commanded. The one or two that lagged quickly caught up when Caulder started barking at them.
It took another ten minutes, but soon he was standing in front of both Damien, Yoshi’s lieutenant, and Terrod. Now reunited, the warband and the returning armies took the opportunity to rest and heal. The biomancers Richter had brought with him spread out among the freed prisoners. They cast Weak Cure Disease and Weak Slow Heal on the recent captives. Some Life magi were already with the returning army, but they had been pulling double duty as guardsmen so hadn’t been able to do more than heal the worst cases.
Richter looked at his casters with pride. Even though it had only been a few months, the tutelage the biomancers received under Sumiko had made them legitimate magicians. They cast spells much more efficiently than they had before. Some had even reached initiate rank in Life magic and so enjoyed a bonus to their spell power.
While they were waiting, Terrod filled him in. The troll mercenaries had left as they’d agreed. Once they exited the valley, the mercs had turned east towards the Azergoth Swamp. Richter was relieved to hear that there had been no treachery. The trolls were apparently true to their profession: willing to kill someone for money and just as happy to walk away if that was where the profit lay. Seeing as how the alternative was being set on fire by Richter, they’d made the right fiscal move.
The sprite and village armies had moved west towards the forest as quickly as possible. Before journeying back into the valley, Hisako had cast a mass heal spell on the prisoners which had greatly improved their mobility. Unfortunately, it had not been enough to fix all of their ills, but it had still gotten them moving. The prisoners with the worst injuries had had to be carried by soldiers. That was another reason they hadn’t made good time.
The soldiers also reported that some of the prisoners had struck out on their own. Approximately two dozen had left. Most of the former captives were in no condition, emotionally or physically, to brave the wilderness, but a few had families or other commitments that could not wait. The fact that some of the prisoners had left wasn’t unexpected. Richter had left instructions that they could leave if they so desired. They had been in captivity long enough.
Once they had reached the mists, it had taken even more time to convince the prisoners to enter. At that point, another ten had decided to leave, but then they ran out of time. Goblins had been sighted to the east. Faced with the unknown of the mists or the known hell of being captured again, all of the remaining prisoners had decided to enter the mists. Alma had then started giving the prisoners immunity, but it was slow going. After the dragonling was done though, their speed had picked up. She had also periodically summoned mist workers to help share the load. Damien had left some sprites at the edge of the mists as a rearguard, but thankfully, no goblins entered Richter’s domain to follow.
The fighters and magi had traveled on the edges of the column with the prisoners on the inside. They were accompanied there by the soldiers carrying the wounded… and the dead. Richter’s heart fell to see how many the battle had claimed. Hisako’s Master spell had resurrected a great many who had died due to one of the Druid’s curses. It had only worked on the freshly dead though. Hundreds of sprites and villagers would never live to see another sunrise. Richter’s lip quivered with suppressed emotion and his fist clenched. He pushed his emotions down. It was not yet time to grieve. That would come soon.
Richter took a moment to welcome the prisoners to his realm. He promised them food, water and shelter, but also made it clear that they must travel as quickly as possible. Though they were weary and heartsore, they still rose to their feet. Soon everyone was moving. The chaos seed patted his familiar where she rested on his shoulders and sent her aloft again. Leading the way once more, they set off for home.
It took another eight hours, but they made it safely back to the village. A few beasts and monsters challenged them, but the sprite archers made quick work of them. Richter and Alma summoned mist workers as quickly as they could, and before long, hundreds of the tireless grey constructs were traveling with them. They carried the wounded, the dead, and also the spoils of war that the armies had brought along with them.
; Everyone, including Richter himself, was worn through by the time the village walls came into sight. A debuff, Moderate Fatigue, had appeared in the corner of his vision and his Concentration, Endurance and Stamina regen had taken a severe hit. He had placed his Belt of Sustenance back on, but the damage was already done. He needed a rest. Thankfully, Randolphus had worked wonders again.
By the time they were all back inside the village walls, a tent city had been set up in orderly lines. Rows of crude tents, often no more than four poles keeping a tarp in the air, were laid out in the empty southeast corner of the village. A feast area had been laid out in the in the middle and over a dozen large campfires were burning brightly.
The chamberlain had also had a large grave dug outside the village walls. The size of it once more threatened to overwhelm Richter’s emotional control, but Alma flew down and comforted her master. Being in contact with the dragonling always helped his mood. She sent him calming thoughts and Richter felt his heart ease. It helped a great deal that Randolphus took control of the refugees.
The chamberlain had Futen next to him and greeted each former prisoner as they entered the village walls. The remnant removed their immunity to the mists as they passed. This caused some fear and consternation among the released captives, but Randolphus was there to soothe them. Between his reasonable countenance and the promise of hot food, healing and shelter, none of the refugees complained overly much as they were guided to the tent city.
Randolphus also arranged for the dead and wounded to be seen to. The mist workers carrying the fallen were directed to the large grave. Family members of the guards rushed outside the village walls. Soon, wails of desolate pain rose into the air, mixed with cries of relief depending on the fate of their loved ones. After a few moments, those whose husbands, wives or children had survived turned to those who had lost someone and helped them care for their dead.