by Phil Tucker
“What?”
A beat as I imagined them both staring at Barfo.
“Yeah, maybe not,” said Barfo.
“He’s the death bat,” said Kreekit. “Summoned from between the stars! Sent by elder witches to bathe in our blood…”
“Well, good news!” I tried to inject some cheer in my voice. “I killed him.”
“You what?” asked Kreekit. “You never.”
“I did too. He’s up in the top room, dead and cooling down.”
This time the silence sounded impressed.
“You sure?” asked Dribbler at last.
“Yep.”
“Words are easy,” said Kreekit, suddenly dismissive. “Look: I killed Mogr the ogre lord!”
“You did?” asked Barfo.
“No! But it’s easy to say, innit?”
“Ohhh!” said Dribbler. “Like…I killed the Dread Lord!”
“Shhhh!” Kreekit sounded horrified. “Don’t you never say that!”
“But—”
There was the sound of a smack. “Never!”
“Sorry.”
“Look,” I said. “If you want proof, I’ll go get it. Give me a moment.”
I ran up the steps, rounded the time-stop cylinder, up the next set of steps, Shadow Stepped to the far side of the room, then back up to the top. I was gasping for breath by that point. Wasn’t my constitution supposed to have risen? Oh – that’s right. It had been conditional on my getting a good night’s sleep. Something I hadn’t had since arriving in Euphoria.
I crouched down next to the dire bat and set to cutting its head off with my blade. Doing so was grisly, hard work, and took me far longer than I expected. My shoulders were burning by the time I was done, my hands drenched in sticky blood, and fat blisters had been rubbed into existence along the inside of my thumb. With a grunt I rose, lifted the head by the thick fur on top, and then paused.
I had one mana left. Which meant I’d be trapping myself below with no way to skip the revolving column if this didn’t pan out. A real risk. The goblins were humorous, but I had no doubt about their ability to attack and kill. Was this worth it? What was I trying to gain?
I looked down at the bat’s head and clenched my jaw. Somehow this felt right, even if I couldn’t tease out why. So I made my way down, taking the steps two at a time, and Shadow Stepped. When I finally reached the goblin floor I slowed, caught my breath, and called out, “Here it comes!”
“Here what comes?” asked Barfo.
I threw the bat’s head down the last of the steps and into the room.
There was a chorus of screams that all cut off as one. Footsteps padded closer, and then there was a sticky sound as if the head had been prodded.
“It’s the sun of death,” said Barfo. “Isn’t it?”
“The demon of stars and blood has been slain,” said Kreekit, voice awed. “Human, you did this?”
“I did,” I said. I thought of embellishing my claim, but decided not to trust my charisma nine. “That was all me.”
“I can’t believe it,” said Dribbler. “Our friends are avenged!” There was another wet, sticky sound, and the head slid into view as if it had been kicked.
“Can I come down now?” I asked. “I promise no funny stuff.”
“Come!” said Kreekit. “We celebrate! Come! Join our feast! Barfo, hurry with the cooking!”
I stepped down warily into view. The three goblins grinned at me with their ferociously pointy teeth. Dribbler ran forward, hand extended.
“Shake! Human shake! Hand to hand, goblin to man! Shake! Shake! Shake! Shake!”
I took his wiry, heavily callused little hand in my own, and he pumped my arm furiously, leaping up and down to do so.
Kreekit spread her arms, extending her beaver skin behind her like a cloak, and intoned gravely, “The feast begins! Throw the head into the pot!”
Oh, great. A goblin feast. What had I gotten myself into?
10
Barfo’s dire bat head soup turned out to be surprisingly tasty. When he first ladled the gray slop into my bowl, complete with tubers and gristly bits, I gave him a glazed grin and felt like I’d stumbled into some cannibal camp out of a nineteenth century Victorian dream. Eat the flesh or be eaten in turn! Tekeli-li! But a cautious sip turned my grimace into a surprised smile: it tasted delicious!
I had three bowls, and I think that made me Barfo’s best friend for life.
Kreekit chose to stand on a stool and orate as I ate, waving a wooden spoon with grave dignity to punctuate her points.
“We are all that is left of the mighty Green Liver tribe! Once, when the sun was made, which was a long time ago, we were made too! We were as many as the leaves on the trees, and we were happy, and spent all our time eating and sleeping.”
“And mating,” said Barfo. “That’s important to me.”
“But then the good times, they ended,” said Dribbler.
“Yes, I was getting to that,” said Kreekit. “The humans came and built this castle, and built their village. They killed many Green Liver goblins. They get so mad! We steal a little food, they kill. We take a few of their people to eat, they kill! We set fire to their house and roll cart full of dung into their party? They kill!”
“No humor,” said Barfo sadly.
Dribbler leaned forward. “But humans get in trouble.”
Kreekit threw her spoon at him, but missed. “My story! Humans, you see, they get in trouble. A terrible bad evil dead man come, and he destroy everything!”
I thought of the icy blue eyes that had stared out of the ruined Feldgrau tower at me. “Is that the Dread Lord? The one who lives in the village?”
“Shhh! Don’t say his name, never say his name, or you will bring him here! But yes. The Dread Lord come and bring ruin and fire and kill all the humans and take the castle. Then he try to dig under castle for a long time, but finally he give up and go away, going back to village to rule the village.”
“Huh,” I said. “There are tunnels under the castle?”
Kreekit gave me a pitying smile, the kind I tried not to give my slower students when they said something unintentionally hilarious. “Are there tunnels? There are dungeons! Many many! Previous Green Liver chieftain, Fire Toe, he lead many goblins into the keep to see what was in dungeon after Dread Lord leave. He never come back, so now Kreekit is the chieftain.”
“And the Dread Lord – what’s he want down in the village?”
Kreekit shrugged. “Don’t know. He is not Kreekit’s friend. He doesn’t tell me his secrets.”
I couldn’t wait to share this with Lotharia. “How long ago did this happen?”
“Seventeen days ago,” said Barfo.
“Many moons ago,” said Dribbler.
“Many years!” Kreekit threw her arms open wide. “But now the Green Liver tribe is very small. Demon death bat eat us, dead humans in village kill us, ogres in castle throw us for fun. Very sad time for the Green Liver tribe.”
“The ogres,” I asked. “They live in the stables?”
“Yes,” said Kreekit. “There are four of them. Mogr is their boss. They are cruel and stupid.”
“I bet. And the undead ogre? What’s up with him?”
“Once, the ogre clan was five. But the Dread Lord killed one, and turned him undead. That was Mogr’s mate. He go down into village and capture her, bring her back, try to heal her.”
“True love,” said Barfo with a sigh.
“But it not work. So Mogr chain his mate to keep her close to him, and he grow even meaner and cruel ever after.” Kreekit sighed and sat on her stool.
“All stories have lesson,” said Barfo, leaning in conspiratorially. “This one: avoid true love. It make you undead in chains.”
I snorted. “Yeah, good advice. And the wyvern?”
&
nbsp; “The dragon?” asked Dribble.
“Right. The dragon. When did it show up?”
“Seventeen days ago,” said Barfo.
“Many moons ago,” said Dribbler.
I cut in. “Got it, got it. What about the keep? Why’s it boarded up?”
“Bad things in keep,” said Kreekit darkly. “Mogr close it up after Fire Toe go in with many Green Liver goblins. Bad things inside. Must say, pretty good move of Mogr.”
“Much approval,” said Dribbler.
“I see.” I set my bowl aside. “One last question. Can I come back with a friend? I want to show her the blue light upstairs.”
Kreekit narrowed her eyes. “Who your friend? Mogr?”
“No, no, no, no. Not Mogr. She is another human. Very nice. Lotharia. She likes goblins. A lot.”
They glanced at each other, then Kreekit shrugged. “If she your friend, and she likes goblins, then she can come.”
“Great. Thanks.” I stood. “And, ah, mind if I open the door to the bailey? I’d like to get out.”
Barfo stood and dusted off his bandy legs. “I open it. Come.” He pulled the propped beams away and set them aside, then peered out through a gap in the wooden door. “No ogres. Dragon sleeping. Safe time to go. Be careful.”
“I will. Thank you for the delicious dire bat head soup,” I said. Inspired, I bowed low to Kreekit. “And thank you, Green Liver chieftain, for your kindness and wisdom.”
Kreekit adopted a severe scowl. “You are welcome, human.”
I hid a grin and stepped outside. Barfo closed the door behind me, and the beams scraped as they were pulled back into place.
My XP chime sounded.
Not wasting any time, I jogged quickly around the inside of the castle wall, skirting around a few small buildings we’d yet to explore. I darted by the rat swarm home before they could notice me, then stepped into our little base.
My eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom. Lotharia was asleep in the back, curled up against a pile of leather saddles covered in dusty blankets, a thick ray of sunshine splashing onto her lap where her book lay open.
“Working hard, I see,” I said as I walked up.
“Hmm?” She cracked open an eye, then gave a feline stretch, groaning as she did so. “So you weren’t just a low-charisma dream of mine.” Her smile was mischievous. “You know, life doesn’t have to be all about leveling. There can be moments in which to simply nap in the sun while pretending to read a really dense treatise on the arcane.”
“Says the lady who’s not on Death March mode.” I sat on a crate. “I’ve discovered a lot while you slept. I’m level three now! And look what I can do.” I focused my energy and used Mage Hand to poke her in the ribs.
“Ah!” She startled upright and then narrowed her eyes at me. “A single Mage Hand?” Six handfuls of straw rose up from the same bale and flew at me, exploding at the last moment in a flurry of gold.
I laughed and fell off the crate, tipped it up onto its side and used Mage Hand to pelt her with everything from scraps of leather to small chunks of wood. She laughed, retreated behind her saddles and did the same, and for a few minutes we engaged in the arcane equivalent of a snowball fight.
“All right!” She held up both hands. “A truce! Or you’ll provoke me into escalating to Hail Strike.”
“Fine, fine.” I grinned, coming up from behind my crate and setting it back down so I could sit. “A truce. But wow – did you see the same thing when you first acquired your magic?”
“The golden light that flows through Euphoria? Yes.” She pulled a strand of straw from her hair and returned to her nest amidst the blankets and saddles. “There are many names for it, but I’ve always preferred Prime energy. It’s the life force of Euphoria. Not to be confused with animal or player ‘life’ as we understand it, but rather the animating force exerted by Albertus Magnus to shape the world we see and experience.”
“And magic allows us to use Prime?”
“Exactly. A friend once explained it to me like this: magic represents our ability to ‘hack’ Euphoria. To step into Albertus’ shoes in the most insignificant way possible and break the rules, shape the world as we see fit.”
“Well, not as we see fit,” I said. “We’re constrained by the nature of our spells.”
“Sure,” said Lotharia. “We low-level dweebs are. But once you hit level fifty you get access to archspells. Those are much more open-ended. I only met one archmagus while I was here before, but… wow. The things Jeramy could do.”
“’Jeramy’?” I asked.
She laughed. “Yeah. His full name was Elmanderyn Phlogiston Magnifico the Gray, but everyone just called him Jeramy. Really weird, really fun guy. He was the one who made Cruel Winter happen. The whole guild kind of coalesced around the parties he’d throw. Kind of like if you mixed Gandalf and Gatsby.”
“Huh,” I said. “Sure would be handy to have him around now.”
“Yeah.” She chewed on a strand of straw. “I wonder what happened to him.”
“Well, I may have found out.” So I told her about Kreekit and her goblins, and what she’d relayed to me about the fall of Cruel Winter.
Lotharia sat up in shock. “You had lunch with goblins?”
“I’ve never been the kind of guy to go for escargot or head cheese or blood sausage, but yeah. Dire bat head soup? Pretty damn good. Except for the bristles getting in your teeth. Could use some kind of filter to— ah, never mind.” Her face had turned a little green. “But yeah. A ‘Dread Lord’ came and wiped everybody out.”
“Must be the power that resides in the tower in Feldgrau. I wonder why. For something under the castle? And if he was that powerful, what stopped him from finding it?” She shook her head slowly. “It’s like one answer only creates two more questions.”
“And I think he saw me,” I admitted. “When I discovered my magic, my mind went down to Feldgrau and he looked at me from within his tower.”
“That’s not good,” she said.
“No, I can’t imagine it is. Felt very Sauron-y of him. And you know how that turned out for Frodo.”
“I don’t like that metaphor,” said Lotharia. “That would mean I’m Sam.”
“Or Gollum, if you prefer.”
“Even better. Raw fish and lots of talking to myself sounds like a wonderful way to spend the next six months.”
We sat in companionable silence. It was the first moment of true peace I’d experienced since arriving in Euphoria. The evening in Lotharia’s cellar had been good, but the threat of imminent death had loomed. But here? I could almost imagine we were safe.
“Why did you leave your job?” I asked, sliding down off the crate to sit in the hay.
Her expression changed subtly. She glanced away and her shoulders grew a little more tense. “Why? I’ve asked myself that more times than I can count. A guy, of course. Don’t all the pathetic stories of women sacrificing their careers involve a guy?”
I winced in sympathy. “Must have been a hell of a guy, then.”
“I thought so.” She looked down at her hands, where she was pulling a piece of straw apart. “At the time, anyways. He was the lead singer of a band.” Her smile became self-conscious, as if she were laughing at herself. “I’d been supporting him for a couple of years, but finally things seemed to fall into place for him. They started booking bigger gigs. Started traveling across the country. There was talk of their playing at one of the Albertus Magnus inauguration ceremonies.”
“That’s pretty amazing,” I said.
“Yeah. And it was. I quit my job, and we and the rest of the band traveled around for six months. We went to Europe, there was talk of heading to Australia, but that crazy June wildfire killed that idea. It was amazing. Until… it wasn’t.”
“What happened?”
She tossed the piece of s
traw away. “You ever seen a surfer try to catch a wave? He’ll wait out beyond the breakers for a good one to roll in, and then will start paddling really hard, trying to catch it so he can jump up on the board?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, Paul’s band was like a surfer who almost caught his wave. But it slipped by, and after a lot of paddling they were left with nothing to show for it. The band fell apart, we moved back to San Francisco, then Paul told me he wanted to start seeing other women and we broke up.”
“Shit,” I said. “What an asshole.”
“No, not an asshole.” Her voice sounded worn out beyond belief, sad and soft. “He never lied. He was always upfront with me. When I offered to quit my job and help, he told me to do so only if I really wanted to. It hurt at the time – I thought he’d be thrilled – but he made it clear it was my decision.” She tried for a smile. “A big life lesson for me, I guess. Though I’m still trying to figure out what I learned.”
“And your old job didn’t want you back?”
“They filled my position within a month of my leaving.”
“But didn’t cut your access to Euphoria.”
“But didn’t cut my access to Euphoria.” Her smile became wry, a smile that was becoming familiar. “So I came here. To party, to be with old friends, and to spend six months figuring out what I want to do next.”
“Well, you came close. Instead of partying you get to spend each waking minute fighting for your life, talking to an insulting noob, and spending the next six months figuring out what you want to do next. Close!”
“Yeah, real close,” she said, and looked away.
We sat in awkward silence for a beat. I took advantage of the moment and opened my character sheet quickly to see what my XP chime had signaled.
You have gained 20 experience (20 for befriending the Green Liver tribe). You have 67 unused XP. Your total XP is 272.
Your attributes have increased!
Charisma +1
You have learned new skills. Diplomacy: Basic (I)
“Hey!” I said, swiping my sheet closed and grinning at her. “Notice how I haven’t insulted you since I got here?”