by Aleron Kong
High Steel Mace of Sonic Beast Slaying
Attack: 13-20
Durability: 46/46
Item Class: Unusual
Quality: Superb
Weight: 3.3 kg
Traits:
+10% Damage vs Spell Barriers
+53% Damage vs Beasts
+6 Sonic damage*
6% chance to Disarm
3% chance to Shatter
Charges: 472/472
* +200% vs Air, +300% vs Crystalline
The mace he planned to give to Caulder. It still left the problem of getting Terrod a new blade though. Bowdin promised that he would have something ready by the end of the week. Something special that Terrod would be able to use with his current stats. That brought Richter to the darkstone blade.
“What do you mean you haven’t attached it to a hilt yet?” Richter asked, slightly irritated. Bowdin wasn’t the village Smith, but in the days since Krom had been gone, he had been impressed by the other dwarf’s attention to detail. This felt like a letdown. He’d wanted to practice with it in the Dungeon.
“I have an idea that will just take a bit more time, yer lordship,” Bowdin explained. He was clearly excited. “I promise the weapon will be ready before the battle with the lich lord. Will ye give me the time to make it great?”
There wasn’t much Richter could say to that. He wanted to test his new toy out, but he could wait if Bowdin had a cool idea. The smith didn’t want to spoil the surprise, so Richter just let the matter drop.
The chaos seed spent another hour or so enchanting. Hunters and sprites came to the Forge periodically to gather Soul Trap arrows and empty soul stones. The village’s stores of metal were not endless though. The nearby iron mine was a godsend, but it still required time to render the resource. There was plenty of iron ore that had been mined as the mist workers helped with that, but they were nearly mindless automatons. Even a novice with the Mining skill might produce a better yield than a mist worker. The only reason the mist workers were any use with a pickaxe was that the mine was filled with iron veins. Apparently higher-level metals needed those with the Mining skill, otherwise the ore crumbled into pieces too small to be useful or was extremely low grade.
Even taking ore production into account, the process of turning it into high steel was time-consuming. While there were stockpiles of the metal, they might run out of readily available ingots before the end of the week if production kept up at the current pace. It was a good thing they had a new labor force that was used to digging.
With that thought, Richter summoned Futen. When the remnant arrived, he sent him back out to find Randolphus and bring the chamberlain back to the forge. The chaos seed wouldn’t force any of the freed prisoners to go back underground to work. He could well understand why that might be traumatic for many of them. He did plan to make them the offer though.
Anyone that wanted to join the village could start now as far as he was concerned. He wouldn’t give them immunity to the mists, but that wasn’t a problem as the enchantment didn’t extend underground. He would pay them at the same rate as everyone else, four silver a fortnight or two coppers and eight iron bits a day. Even those that wanted to leave might jump at the chance to put some coin in their pockets before they re-entered the world. With any luck, they might even find a vein of rarer metal.
He got back to work.
It was over an hour before Randolphus joined him. That was out of the ordinary, but Richter didn’t mind. He had more than enough work to occupy himself between enchanting and improving his own low Smithing skill. He also trusted the chamberlain to manage his own time. The village would probably be a disease-filled, inefficient mess without the Spy’s diligence. Richter also knew that one of the keys to success in any large organization was putting capable people in charge and then staying the hell out of the way.
By the time the chamberlain walked up, Sion had already gathered the meidon sprites. Predictably, every one of them was interested in having their potential magic awakened. To Richter’s delight, every sprite that had bonded with a Life or Air pixie now had enough a high enough affinity to learn the corresponding magic. It meant that the meidon sprites were not only fighters, but that theirs ranks had also added another forty-three new casters to his village. Forty-three new magic users, and every one of them had sworn fealty to him.
Some of the sprites might have had a high enough affinity even before the meitu’meidon, but statistically, he knew it was the bonding that had made the difference. The incidence of having an affinity for a Basic Element seemed to be less than one in a hundred people. It might even be closer to one in a thousand for all he knew. There was also a clear predilection for certain races to be more or less likely to create certain types of magi. Dwarves, for instance, were known to breed geomancers, whereas aeromancers were far less likely to appear in that population. Now, however, in less than thirty minutes he had made more than forty new Life and Air magi, with a 100% success rate. Once again, the Quickening proved its power in a subtle way.
A few had even been gifted with spells that Richter hadn’t known.
Weak Life’s Radiance: Creates a 5-yard radius of Life energy around the caster. All healing spells are 5% more effective to anyone within the boundaries of this spell. Life creatures are 5% stronger and Death creatures are 5% weaker. This is a spell of Life Magic, level 1. Cost: 58 mana. Duration: 5 minutes. Range: self. Cast Time: 2 seconds. Cooldown: 18 minutes.
Weak Honed Air: Creates an area of extremely compressed air around your weapon. Increases the lethal distance of your weapon by 3 inches. Enemies struck with this extended radius will not trigger enchantments in your weapon. This does not change the size classification of your weapon. This is a spell of Air Magic, level 1. Cost: 31 mana. Duration: 20 minutes. Range: self. Cast Time: 2 seconds. Cooldown: 18 minutes.
Weak Voice Displacement: Allows the caster to make his voice appear to come from a different location, up to 10 yards away. This is a spell of Air Magic, level 1. Cost: 17 mana. Duration: 12 minutes. Range: self. Cast Time: 1 seconds. Cooldown: N/A.
Richter told the three meidon sprites who received those spells to show up at the House of Scholarship at the end of the day. He intended to create spellbooks for each so that he could learn the new magic ASAP. Once they were part of his spell repertoire, his Mastery in Air and Life magic would let him share the spells with every other caster in the villager that had the skills. That was barring the children, of course. The meidon sprites that had bonded with Dark and Water pixies were understandably disappointed that he could not awaken their powers yet, but he told them it would happen right after he achieved Mastery of those Powers.
He was in the process of sharing his known level one spells with the new Air and Life magi when Randolphus walked up. Richter noticed his chamberlain and said, “Ah good, you’re here. I have some ideas about putting our guests to work. I’m also about to go to the Dungeon. It would be great if you would join me again.”
Richter hadn’t really looked at his chamberlain’s face while he was talking. His attention was mostly on the sprites he was teaching. When Randolphus didn’t respond though, he looked over and stopped cold. He had never seen such a hard look on the man’s face. It was firm resolve mixed with anger. Knowing things were about to change, Richter asked, “Do I have time to finish teaching these spells?”
“Yes, my lord,” Randolphus replied solemnly.
The chaos seed finished imparting the spells his meidon sprites could learn at level one. Sion had picked up on the seriousness of Randolphus’s demeanor. All of the meidon sprites instinctually looked to him for direction because of his First Meidon ability, which made his leadership a foregone conclusion. He led them all away towards the main village gate, saying it was time to organize the hunting parties.
Richter and Randolphus walked away from the Forge of Heavens until they were out of earshot of anyone else. Once they were, the chamberlain turned towards his lord and did not mince words. “
There has been a murder.”
CHAPTER 38 – Day 143 – Kuborn 33, 0 AoC
Richter just stared at Randolphus, uncomprehending. He understood the words, of course, but he thought that there must be some mistake. His time in The Land had been a constant struggle. He couldn’t even remember the faces of everyone he had killed. The blood of more than one thousand goblins was on his hands, but… that had been battle. That was war and that made it… okay. Didn’t it?
His mouth tried to form words several times before he could actually move past his shock, “Are you sure? Maybe you made a mistake.” He gestured to the villagers walking around. Despite the overcast day, people were happy and smiling, “No one seems upset.” His tone was beseeching. The village was the one thing he could count on. It was what made the questionable acts he committed acceptable somehow. It was what vindicated his choices, the ones that kept him awake sometimes in the dark of night.
“I am sure, my lord,” Randolphus answered definitively. “The body was found in the pit the hunters use to dispose of the offal from their kills. He was a human and his neck was broken. It was one of the prisoners you freed from the goblins.”
“Couldn’t he have just fallen in?” Richter asked lamely. He knew that Randolphus wouldn’t have told him he was sure if there was any doubt. Like a man who’d been told he had days to live though, he was clutching at straws. Anything to try and rewind the clock by just a few minutes when everything had been okay. “Everyone was very drunk last night,” he added hopefully. Maybe whoever had died had just fallen into the pit by accident. If someone had died at his celebration because they drank too much, Richter would feel bad about it, but it would be much easier to deal with than a murder in his village.
“No,” Randolphus repeated with the same quiet conviction. It was clear to him now that his liege was having a hard time with this, but he would not soften the truth. “I have seen many ‘falls,’ in my lifetime. In my service to the old king of Yves, I arranged more than a few ‘accidents’ myself. I know the difference. This man was strangled. After that, his neck was broken and he was dumped into the pit like trash. It was a murder.”
Richter’s mood began to change. The gentle denial and sadness he’d initially felt was quickly being replaced by a burning anger. Someone had defiled the sanctity of his village. This was his home. He had built it from nothing. Only hours before, he had made an offer to the freed slaves, saying it could be their home as well. Implicit in that offer was the idea that they could live here in relatively safety, that he would do his best protect them. And now? A vein in Richter’s forehead began to throb. And now someone had not only disrespected his home, but they had made a liar out of him, showing people that there was no safety at all. Anything gentle inside of him faded far into the background, and the part of him that enjoyed the pain of screaming enemies rose to the forefront. He would not let this pass. With steel in his voice now, he gave a simple command, “Tell me what you know.”
Randolphus nodded and began to speak. He was relieved that the momentary weakness he’d seen had passed. This matter had to be confronted directly and without delay. He knew from hard experience that such action was not something everyone could do. Some rulers were good with people but not battle. Others were callous and a small few were kind. Lords came in all shapes, strengths and sins. Any leader that wanted to live more than a short while had one thing in common, however. Almost any failing could be forgiven in a lord, but not weakness. Never weakness.
“I was notified about this hours ago,” Randolphus began. “One of the hunters went to the skinning area in order to gather some snares that they make for small game. He noticed some drag marks near the pit. When he looked in, he saw the body. He came to find me immediately.”
“Does anyone else know?” Richter asked. He had to know how widespread this information was. If it was widely known, the story could spread through the village like a wildfire, leaving fear and panic in its wake.
“I notified Captain Terrod,” Randolphus replied, completely understanding Richter’s unvoiced concern. “He is standing watch near the pit with several other guards. I was also forced to question several of the freed prisoners. As the victim was one of their own, it made sense to question them first. I ordered that they be sequestered.
“The hunter that found me, a high elf named Dobbs, readily agreed to keep the murder secret until we instructed otherwise. The other hunters know something is amiss, as Terrod is not letting them near the site, but they do not know what. I am confident that no other villagers are aware of what has occurred.”
Richter nodded his approval and indicated that Randolphus should continue. “That is why it took me so long to reply to your summons. Though I was tardy, my lord, the time was well spent. I have identified the culprits.”
“Someone confessed?” Richter asked surprised.
“I am a Spy whose focus is counterintelligence, my lord. Now that I am no longer sacrificing my skills and abilities to adopt another persona, you will find that not many can keep secrets from me. In speaking with the freed prisoners, I have learned something troubling. Despite all having been in captivity, some of the people you freed were exploiting the others. Specifically, some of the higher-level men and women used the weaker captives however they wished.”
“Are you saying,” Richter began. He had to stop and start again, as the words were so sour they twisted his lips. “Are you saying that even though they were all slaves to the goblins, some of the people we saved were abusing their fellow captives?”
“Abuse and worse. Some of the captives were informers. They would report to the goblins if anyone were not working hard or if any were considering resistance. In return for this betrayal, they were given extra rations and the goblins did not interfere if they wanted to use the other slaves for their amusement.”
Richter’s jaw tightened. Nothing the chamberlain was saying shocked him. He knew that evil existed everywhere. On Earth, the news was always filled with atrocities happening in the inner city or in countries on the other side of the planet. His understanding of the atrocities men and women committed had always been academic before now, however. To actually have rapists and traitors in his midst filled him with anger. Knowing that it continued to happen even after they had been freed, even after so many of his people had died freeing them, filled him with rage. Not trusting himself to speak yet, he gestured for Randolphus to continue.
“It was a simple matter to discover the victim had a sister. From there, I learned that two of the men used to rape the dead man’s sister regularly in the cages. After that, it was simple to learn the rest of the story. The murdered man had not dared to stop the rapists while they were captives. The goblins apparently had been very creative with the tortures they enacted on anyone who opposed their pet informants. Now that they were no longer under the goblins’ control, he stood up for her. The two men are both level twelve and have invested heavily in Strength. Their victim was only level six.”
“How do you know about the dead man’s level?” His Analyze skill couldn’t target creatures that had been killed, unless they were undead.
Randolphus understood what he saying, “Your skill is impressive, my lord, but my own Talents and skills have a versatility that yours do not.”
Richter nodded. It was always good to remember that as powerful as he had become, there were other beings even more powerful with capabilities he lacked. Arrogance was often a person’s last mistake.
The chamberlain continued, “With their increased Strength and greater numbers, the woman’s brother was overpowered. The two men apparently killed him before dragging her off and using her again.”
“Last night?” Richter said, seething. “They raped her here?”
“Yes,” Randolphus replied through gritted teeth. His professional mask finally cracked and he showed his own anger. Where Richter’s anger was hot, the Spy’s fury was as cold and merciless as ice. “The area you cleared in the mists for the party was larg
e enough that they could go almost to the eastern wall. That is also why they were able to reach the pit to dispose of the body.”
Richter cursed. There was nothing of importance on the eastern side of the village. It was mostly just empty space. Since there were so many of the captives, he had let the clearing in the mist extend out to the wall. The walls on that side of the village were always manned by guards, so he hadn’t thought there would be any harm. It had been an innocent kindness in his opinion. Apparently even those could be corrupted.
Richter was tired of hearing the story. He wanted to act. “You have the two men in captivity?”
“I do,” Randolphus replied. “They have been bound and are under guard by Captain Terrod. After I identified them, I spoke to the woman they abused. She has been beaten and was initially afraid to speak. When I assured her that she was safe from any retaliation, however, she told me the entire story. One of the men is quite aggressive and is proclaiming his innocence. The other is clearly a follower and became tearful when he was arrested.
“Once I separated them, it did not take long to elicit a confession from the sad one. He corroborated the woman’s story almost verbatim. He quickly stated that it was the other man who had killed the woman’s brother. In his words, he had ‘just been trying to have some fun.’” Randolphus almost spat as he repeated the coward’s words.
Richter internalized everything he was hearing. He didn’t want to get off-topic, but he had to ask, “Did you torture the man to gain his confession?”
Randolphus looked him directly in the eye and in a measured voice responded, “No, my lord. That was not necessary, in this case.” The Spy put just the slightest bit of emphasis on the last words. Richter wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Once upon a time, it would have gone completely against his beliefs to use torture in a system of justice. Yet it was true that both he and Sion had tortured people before. They had been goblins though, and it had been during war… Richter’s internal protestations sounded weak and hollow even to him. The fact of the matter was he was not above using pain when the situation called for it. Was it really any different in this situation? He put the matter aside for the moment. “Is there anything else?”