Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God

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Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God Page 34

by Brian McGoldrick


  With each swing of the hammer, I feel the mana surging through my body, down my arm, and into the hammer's head. A faint blood red aura surrounds the hammer, and multicolored sparks fly from each impact on the orange glowing steel.

  Ironically, the glowing metal and the heat of the forge chill me. Being so close to them, the scars on my bare chest burn with the remembered pain, while a cold hard lump sits in the pit of my stomach.

  “Good, you have achieved basic control over your mana. Now, you can learn to see. The secret to seeing patterns is in how your perceive the world. First, you have to change the way you think about your surroundings, then you have to use mana to filter what your eyes see.” Roderick is standing on the opposite side of the anvil from me.

  “Normally, no one ever looks past the surface of the universe. Our eyes are part of our bodies. They are both of the physical world and bound by the laws of the physical world. Patterns are part of the laws that make up the very nature of the universe, so the eyes can normally not see them. You need to learn to look at the structure of the universe, the universe itself, not the veil that we see around us.

  “This not something that can be taught. Each person has to find their own way to twist their mind and look beneath the surface. That sight is the core of Making. Smithing is a Making art, and every person has their own way of Making. It comes from your soul. If you cannot find the way within yourself, all your potential as a Smith will be wasted.”

  I turn a flat stare on Roderick. “Why do I have the feeling that is much easier said than done?”

  Roderick's chuckle, matches his ironic grin. “If it was easy, the universe would be filled with Makers. There's a couple tons of scrap metal here. Keep pounding out the impurities, until you see the secrets of steel or give up. When you can see the secrets of steel, I can begin your real training.”

  Roderick raises his hand and a spell pattern hovers over it. “Remember this spell. When you have found your insight, use it on yourself, on your own eyes.”

  *** Tallifer (Divine Wind's Fort) - Battleground of the Damned ***

  Return: Day 55

  The members of Divine Wind were running around in a panic. A stone longboat could be seen flying straight toward their fort from the southwest. The only race that knew the secret of making flying stone ships was the DokkAlfar.

  Carlson and two of the other leaders within Divine Wind were surrounded by clamoring Divine Wind members, when Jinmu exited the keep. Divine Wind was currently an alliance of five small guilds, that had banded together after The Nameless trapped more that a million Taereun players in the bodies of their characters.

  Originally, they had just been an informal coalition of the guilds, but under Jinmu's influence, they had formed a permanent alliance, , with the five guild leaders acting as council. Since then, they had trained in tactics and strategy under Jinmu and begun to operate as a mercenary unit. The guild leaders, fearful of his charisma and skills, kept Jinmu in the role of an adviser, but in the field, their lack of ability forced them to stand aside, while Jinmu commanded the mercenary force in their few battles to date.

  As Jinmu observed the situation, Delilah exited the keep behind him. *What is that?”

  *The DokkAlfar.*

  Delilah shivered hearing Jinmu's words in their personal party chat.

  Seeing Jinmu standing outside the keep, a number of Divine Wind members, who were part of the active mercenary force, rapidly approached him.

  “Jinmu, those are DokkAlfar! What should we do?”

  Jinmu glanced around the courtyard. Carlson was one of three guild leaders present, but none of them were giving any effective orders.

  “Take bows and get to the top of the keep. If that boat does not come down, do not expose yourselves to overhead fire, and wait for orders. If it does come down, take positions at the keep parapets and wait for orders.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Seeing how Jinmu calmed the mercenary force members with a few calm commands, Carlson looked at him with a mixture of jealousy and admiration. The other two guild leaders had expression somewhere between envy and resentment, but they did not know what to do. The DokkAlfar were a boogeymen, from their days in Taereun the game, and struck an unnatural fear into them. They could not believe that Jinmu's calm was anything but an act.

  Carlson quickly approached Jinmu. “You're Divine Wind's best tactician. What should we do?”

  “Take your people under cover for now. That airship allows the DokkAlfar to be able to assault us with virtual impunity, if we are in the open. I will wait out here and see what they do.”

  Carlson looked over his shoulder at the approaching stone longboat. “Okay. Just make sure you let us know when to attack.”

  Jinmu frowned slightly. “There may not be a battle. Wait and see what happens.”

  Carlson led his people into one of the towers along the wall. The other two guild leaders, seeing his actions, took their people into the other tower and the small gate barbican.

  *Delilah, you go inside the main keep too. You do not have the combat experience to be safe out here, if the DokkAlfar bombard us.*

  Alone in the courtyard, Jinmu waited for the longboat to arrive.

  Less than ten minutes later, the longboat circled over the keep twice, before looping down to the defensive wall. Two DokkAlfar soldiers jumped onto the top of the wall and secured the floating ship to the battlements with mooring lines.

  A DokkAlfar in leather robes and a hooded leather cloak stepped off the side of the longboat and floated down to the wall. Alone, the robed DokkAlfar strode down from the wall and over to Jinmu.

  “Greetings, Jinmu.” Kra'cha'len's voice was had the same odd accent, as the last time Jinmu heard it.

  Jinmu felt a chill in his bowels. The DokkAlfar were a complication that he did not wish to deal with.

  “Good afternoon, Kra'cha'len. I assume that you would not be coming here without a pressing reason.”

  Kra'cha'len's frown was visible beneath the shadow of his hood. “I have information regarding your daughter. It is not good.”

  Jinmu felt as though a frozen spear had pierced his heart. How does this DokkAlfar know about Mei?

  “My daughter?”

  “There is no point in feigning ignorance. The Great God has taken an interest in you, and there is nothing that can be hidden from his eyes. Your daughter is one of the nameless traitor's victims, those who call themselves the Damned. She goes by the name Selestra.”

  “Come with me.” Jinmu entered the keep, leading the DokkAlfar to an empty storage room near the door he used.

  “You are a Priest-Wizard. Can you seal this room against sound?”

  Kra'cha'len's finger rapidly traced a spell pattern in the air and activated it with a flick of his wrist. The silvery light expanded covering the walls, ceiling, floor, and door before disappearing.

  “It is done.”

  “Tell me about my daughter.”

  Kra'cha'len's frown returns. “In the years since their defeat at Haven, the surviving Damned have spread out in a number of directions. Your daughter was sold by her friends in Free Port, so that they could buy their safety from one of the Houses. She has been placed in a brothel, where she is used by dozen's of men a week. A half-breed between LjosAlfar and SvartAlfar is an exotic toy that draws a number of the cities most twisted perverts to the brothel.”

  Jinmu's face was pale, and his hands were shaking, with a mix of fear and rage. “I do not believe your words.”

  Kra'cha'len sighed dramatically. “If you do not believe my words, I can arrange to show you images, but it will take me forty of fifty days to arrange it. Getting one of an attuned pair of scrying devices to your from here to Free Port will take time.”

  Jinmu fixed a cold stare on Kra'cha'len's hooded face. “What is your purpose in telling me these things?”

  “If you swear yourself to Yggr, I can arrange for you to be taken to Free Port, instead of just sending a scrying device.”


  “I have no trust in your words. Do not return to bother me with more false statements.”

  Kra'cha'len's smile was cold as he turned and left the storeroom.

  *** Tallifer (City of Tallifer) - Battleground of the Damned ***

  Return: Day 60

  The secrets of steel. How can such a simple thing to say be so hard to understand? No matter how I try to see through, a lump of red hot iron or steel is still a red hot lump of iron or steel. I do not know what I am looking for and have no clue how to look for it.

  I have seen hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of spell patterns, but Roderick says a spell pattern is not a real pattern. When he refers to a spell pattern, he derisively calls it a spell web. Just what am I supposed to see in the steel?

  A presence near the door of the Smithy catches my attention, and I turn toward Jinmu. He is intently scanning the forges and smelters set up in the work area. His slight smile and gleaming eyes give his face an air of almost childish delight.

  Beside him, Sigurd stares at the scars on my chest. In the hospital, I always wore shirt during my physical therapy. Even if he has seen pictures, there is a difference in impact between a picture and the reality. Seeing me watching him, Sigurd swallows reflexively, as he meets my eyes.

  I move toward the gate to the smithy, and Perzey stops her practice, quickly running over to follow me like my shadow. Her control over her body has reached the point where she almost appears to glide when she runs. Even without using her air abilities, she is starting move like an embodiment of the wind.

  Jinmu looks past me toward Perzey, his eyes weighing the changes in her. Returning his gaze to me, he smiles slightly.

  “Your ideas seem to have succeeded.”

  I shake my head. “Not in the manner that I expected. I don't think she will ever again be the person that was once a player. She has become a fusion of two minds. It will be interesting to see where it leads her in the end.”

  “What happened to Harkins?”

  I shrug. “No clue. After he attacked me, I slapped him around, and Perzey blew him off. I haven't seen him since.”

  Sigurd stares at me, aghast. From his expression, it appears he is looking at a monster. My smile causes him to shiver. Was he afraid to ask about Harkins, or did Jinmu never tell him about the man following us?

  The door to Roderick's office opens, and I turn toward him.

  “Roderick, this is Jinmu. He is from my home world. We came here together.”

  Roderick nods to Jinmu. “Another ki adept. In this part of the Battleground, only about one in ten thousand adepts ever have enough strength in ki to master it. Yet, both of you from a single world are so strong in it. Is everyone in your world like the two of you?”

  Jinmu laughs. “In our world, we were the exceptions, the ones who did not truly belong.”

  Roderick pats me on the shoulder. “Brand, you should take some time away from the forge. You are trying to force a breakthrough, and that will never work. Spend some time with your friends and clear your mind.”

  I turn to look at my forge.

  “I'll clean up. Come back tomorrow.”

  I frown. “Alright, I'll do that.”

  Roderick starts to walk toward the forge. “You frustration is obvious. Success will not necessarily happen overnight, but if you let its lack cloud your mind, you will never find it.”

  Jinmu rests his hand on my shoulder. “Let's go to a restaurant. There are many place where I have not yet had the chance to sample the cuisine.”

  While walking along the streets, we do not talk, not even using a party channel from the party charms. The restaurant that Jinmu leads us to is in the upper floors of a tower near the harbor. Just the furniture makes it obvious that this is not a cheap establishment.

  A scantily clad hostess leads us to a table on the balcony. Being early afternoon, the lunch patrons are mostly gone, and it is too early for the dinner crowds. Barely an eighth of the tables are occupied.

  “Did you come into a fortune while I was away?” I use English, since no natives will understand it.

  Jinmu smiles. “Thug Horde has been very generous to us. There seem to be a lot of them wandering around this area.”

  “Their main base is in the western part of the Southern Reaches. You didn't know that?”

  Jinmu is a bit surprised. “No one I have talked to knew where they were based from. Do you know about this because of your history?”

  “I tracked them down early on. During the days of the game, they ruthlessly murdered anyone they thought was an NPC to keep their base secret. Only players have ever really known about it. It's rather hard to keep your base hidden from people who can resurrect forever.”

  Jinmu laughs, but it seems halfhearted. Something is off about his behavior. He is acting more or less like Jinmu, but there is none of the intense drive of the Jinmu I know.

  “How long will it be before we advance to where Mei is, and how long will it take to reach her”

  I cannot keep from frowning. “It's a bit hard to say. I want to master Smithing, before I move on. After that, it will be at least four years, but probably longer. The gate out of the Battlefield of the Damned is sealed and dead, but I think I know who may be able to help us open it. The problem is that it's at least a six month journey to Alkhalazen's Demise. I don't know how long it will take the Dvergar to make any arrangements they need. Then, it's another year and a half give or take to reach the gate. Once the gate is open, it's a solid two year journey, barring any obstacles.”

  Jinmu looks down. “So long. I did not realize how long it would actually take.”

  I shrug. “It was the roll of the dice. We had no idea where would enter Taereun. I was guessing it would be inside the Labyrinth, but I expected to wind up in the Chamber of Transition. The Four Bones Goblin Lair is really ass-fuck nowhere. To be honest, the sheer size and power of Tallifer, considering its location, has always amazed me.”

  Sigurd's eyes are troubled. “Did you spend a lot of time here, when you played the game?”

  I snort. “Not really. There are too many people here, but I passed through on business a number of times.”

  Tallifer is in a decidedly warm climate. It is more subtropical than tropical, but there are very few cold days during the year. On the streets, normal Tallifer citizens do not wear much clothing, if they are not wearing armor. The waitress who comes to our table is a scantily clad as the hostess. Tallifer has nothing that resembles the moral codes of a puritan or even early turn of the millennium American culture. They know that sex sells, and the waitresses are probably available if you offer enough money.

  Even though we are using English, I wait until the waitress is gone, before continuing. “What are you doing that you're running into Thug Horde?”

  Jinmu faintly smiles. “Bounty hunting, mostly. We also do some courier work. We are required to post a bond for it, but the pay is good. I have one hundred forty-seven people under me. Not many, but it is a start.”

  We spend the rest of our meal discussing strategy and logistics for Jinmu's work. He is building a mercenary force for the time being, and I give him what decade plus out of date information I have about the Southern Reaches.

  When the restaurant begins to fill with the night crowd, we leave. Jinmu and Sigurd return to the harbor, and Perzey follows me back to the room I am renting near the Smithy.

  *** Tallifer (City of Tallifer) - Battleground of the Damned ***

  Return: Day 76

  Clang! clink. Clang! clink. Clang! clink. Clang! clink.

  I have already internalized the physical aspects of repeated full power swings and no longer to focus on what I am doing. My mind is wandering, as I watch Perzey more than the metal I am forging.

  Perzey is not a beautiful woman, but her body is still mesmerizing. She moves like her body has almost become one with the air. Grown from shoulder length to the middle of her back, Perzey's hair is a brown curtain dancing in the wake of her movements
. She is getting better, but I will need to slap her around a bit more to put a sharper edge on her.

  In the corner of my eye, something draws my attention back to the iron beneath my hammer. A burst of light was visible for a moment on the metal. It almost looked like a condensed version of the polychromatic sparks given off, when my hammer lands. I keep working the steel, but after a few minutes nothing more is visible. I return the cooling metal to the forge again.

  Memories of the days and nights with Perzey drift through my mind. Before arriving in Tallifer, I would train her everyday. No matter how much I hurt her while training, she was passionately hungry for my touch in the night. No, it would be more accurate to say, the more I hurt her in the day, the more she hungered for me to fuck her brains out in the night.

  I want to take the time to train her again, to see how well she fares, when I push her.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch something in the metal again. No matter how intently I focus, I cannot catch another glimpse.

  Angrily, I take the heated steel out of the fire placing it on the anvil again. Filled with rage, I swing my hammer down on the steel. The aura around the hammer's head is a deep bloody red, casting a strong sanguine glow on my anvil. I want to crush the metal, that refuses to give up its secrets

  CLANG! clink. CLANG! clink. CLANG! clink. CLANG! clink.

  Again, I see a flash of light within the metal. Smithing is a Making art, and every person has their own way or Making. It comes from your soul. Is this my key? Cruelty? Pain?

  I picture the spell pattern Roderick showed, filling it with mana. Burning pain fills my eyes for a moment, blurring my vision. As my vision clears, I see a new world. Everything around me has become networks of light. Some things like the the anvil and the steel are relatively simple, with wide, heavy, bold rays and curves of light. Others like Perzey, the Smiths, and apprentices are incredibly complex masses that appear to be fractal patterns of light, with only a vaguely human shape.

 

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