All color drained from Alfonse’s face to hear Stewart address Lord Theron as “minion.” He waited fearfully for the response from the noble.
Shaking his head, Theron made a placating gesture, “It’s fine. I asked to be his minion. I felt it the best way to convince him to let me help. He was crying when I found him. I take it he hasn’t yet learned the history pertaining to his, ah... parentage?”
“Nay. He will be beginnin’ lessons at the temple soon.”
“As it always is. If only…” Lord Theron shook his head, cutting off the thought. “Well, as my task is complete, I shall be going. Please do not treat the boy too harshly. He has endured much already today. Farewell.”
~*~*~
Setting down the mug, Stewart looked at Grimgar. “That was my first real taste of what my blood would mean. It set me apart, made me unwanted and unwelcome by most of the city. If not for Alistern and his family, I would have fared even worse.”
“I did nay experience the same as ye, of course,” Grimgar replied. “Though I still had me own issues growin’ up.”
“That’s life,” Stewart agreed. “The next year, I started going to the temple regularly for lessons. Over the next six years, I learned why my blood was feared and hated by so many people. It was during the Proving that I learned again how my blood had shaped me.”
Grimgar poured them both another round, then held up the now empty pitcher. “Marian, bring us another.”
“Aye,” Marian Crowley called out as she moved through the crowded room.
Sitting back as he sipped, Stewart began to relate the tale of his Proving.
~*~*~
Eyeing Alistern askance, Stewart sighed internally. His friend was as loud as ever, which was drawing the attention of others. The classes from the other temples were openly sneering at the small group from the Dark Lord’s Temple.
“Alistern, maybe you should tone it down for now,” Stewart murmured at his friend.
“They should be knowin’ tha’ we be takin’ the most kills,” Alistern chuckled. “We be good. We have us, Berga, and Vincent. With a Paladin and Priest, we be just fine.”
“You’re loud and annoying the others, which means they’ll make things more difficult for us if they can,” Berga told him, her voice waspish. She smoothed her Cleric’s vestments of black and red.
“I have to agree with Berga,” Vincent nodded, adjusting the leather armor the temple had supplied him with. “There are a lot more of them than there are of us.” He checked the small wooden shield and his hammer. “This is going to be hard enough without you antagonizing them.”
“Oi,” called out one of the boys from Justice’s Temple. “Why is one of you hiding under a hood? Is he afraid of us seeing his ugly face?” Snickers and laughter followed his statement.
Alistern’s face went cold as he turned to the offending speaker. Before he could say anything, Stewart grabbed his shoulder. “Don’t rise to the bait.”
“You too afraid to speak yourself?” the boy taunted again.
With a deep breath to ready himself for what was to come, Stewart pushed the hood back as he stared at the taunting boy. His light red skin and the two horns visible on his brow made all the other kids step back. “Since you really must know, I was trying to avoid causing a scene.”
Everyone who could see him sneered at Stewart almost in unison. “Fucking Infernal-loving scum.” The boy spat at Stewart’s feet, “Keep your cursed blood away from the rest of us.”
Stewart shrugged as he pulled his hood up again, “And that is why I was under my hood.” The sound of repressed anger and grief faintly colored his words. “Now, are we done with the posturing? Can we just wait in silence for the guard?”
“You should be silent, Infernal,” another teen said loudly. “Scum like you shouldn’t even be allowed out here.”
Alistern started to speak again, but Stewart grabbed his shoulder again to silence him. Grimacing, Alistern ground his teeth in frustrated anger, but gave a curt nod as he turned back to face the middle of the small square of the town.
A moment later, a Stormguard Guard came walking out of the inn toward them. “Pipe down,” the guard thundered, silencing the heckling that had started up. “This is the Proving. You are here to prove your worth; to your God, to the Crown, and to yourselves. You must make at least one kill to pass the Proving. The group with the most kills will be rewarded by various shopkeepers in Stormguard. Second place will be treated to dinner at the Unicorn Inn behind me. The third group will receive a congratulatory plaque. Are there any questions?”
There were none, so the guard continued, “Good. You have five hours, starting now. Go!”
The groups took off in all directions, seeking out targets. The Dark Lord’s group didn’t move right away, letting the rush of people abate first. Alistern looked back at the other three, “Ya be ready?”
Everyone nodded and they turned to find the guard eyeing them. “You lot are going to end up last this way.”
“Nay, we have been advised,” Alistern chuckled. With that, he led them down the road to a small hovel, knocking on the door. “Darkness help us,” Alistern called out as he knocked.
The door opened a crack, and a single bloodshot eye looked out. “You lot ready?”
“Aye,” Alistern smirked. “Just need to summon the minions.”
The door opened further, revealing the grizzled grey-haired man on the other side. He stepped out of the way for them. “The tunnel is open, but mind yourselves down there. The rats are big.”
Alistern and Stewart summoned their Imps before they all entered the hovel. Each of the teens gave the one-eyed man a thankful nod as they trailed Alistern inside and to the small trap door standing open in the floor. Alistern climbed down without hesitation, followed quickly by the rest of the group.
“You lot, do your best,” the man told them, peering down at them from the trapdoor. “May the Dark Lord guide you today.” A tunnel stretched off from the base of the ladder, pools of dim light fading away into the distance.
Vincent took the lead in the ten-foot wide tunnel, with Alistern and Stewart side-by-side behind him. “Okay, just like the Priest told us: we go slow and steady. There are a number of rooms down here, and the tunnel will lead out toward the river. If we pace it right, this is probably going to be a three-hour clear. We can kill things from the exit back to the town, too.”
“Aye, we know tha’,” Alistern added, his hands flexing. “Let’s get goin’, aye?”
“I will do my best,” Berga commented as she drew the hammer from her belt.
“We all will. Isn’t that right, Illos?” Stewart asked calmly as he looked down at the Imp beside him.
“Indeed, master,” Illos agreed. “We will show them the power of Imp blood.”
Frowning, Stewart nodded silently as he thought over the Imp’s choice of words. Alfonse would never tell him who his mother or father had been. Since he had summoned Illos though, the Imp had referred to Stewart’s blood as Imp blood.
“Vizax,” Alistern spoke, interrupting Stewart’s contemplation, “like I told ya yesterday, focus on Vincent’s targets.”
“As you desire, master,” the Imp agreed. “If I do a good job, will you do what you said?” The Imp’s tone was hopeful as he looked at Alistern beseechingly.
“Aye. Iffin ya do good enough, I be seein’ about tha’.”
“What did you promise him?” Stewart asked, hoping he was wrong.
“Tha’ I would summon him in the bathin’ room an’ forget to take him with me iffin the Valkyrie Guild comes back to the inn.”
“Your father will kill you,” Stewart sighed.
“Nay. He may thrash me a bit, but iffin that gives Vizax the extra motivation to help us take first, then it be worth it.”
“If you’re done visiting,” Vincent cut in. “Follow me.”
The ceiling was a good eight feet up, so they walked easily through the tunnel. Light stones were set into the ceiling
at thirty-foot intervals, providing just enough light to see by. The walls of the tunnel were scored by a myriad of small marks along the bottom, up to a couple of feet from the floor.
“Teeth and claws,” Illos muttered as the group walked on.
About sixty feet ahead of them, the tunnel split in a fork to the left and right. Fifteen feet before they reached the split, loud chittering echoed down the tunnel. Illos and Vizax instantly formed Fire Blasts, holding them in their hands as the noise grew.
“Here we go,” Vincent said and took another step forward. A half dozen rats the size of cats darted into view from each offshoot. The moment stretched out as each teen in the group looked at the other. “Stay behind me, and focus on my first target.”
The six rats rushed forward with chittering sounds. Vincent leaned in as he swiped with his hammer, connecting firmly with one and pushing out with his shield to keep the other five in front of him.
As he drew back to hit the first one again, two bolts streaked past him and singed the rat with a horrible odor as the fur burned away. “Illos, hold until he strikes for a third time,” Stewart called out, then cast his own Fire Blast. “By my flame, be burned.” He completed the hand gesture at the same time, the ball of fire forming in his hand.
Alistern had chosen the other Ability at level five, so had to use the original spell incantation while motioning with his hand, “Fire Blast, Fire Blast, Fire Blast.”
Vincent hit the original rat for the third time, then switched off to hit the other rats once each. Four Fire Blasts shot past him to hit the first one. The mostly charred rat squealed loudly as it writhed in pain.
“Healing now,” Berga stated calmly and cast her spell on Vincent, who had taken a few bites.
“I’ve hit them all at least once. Focus on my current target,” Vincent called out as the soothing dark wave of healing washed over him.
Soon, the group of rats lay dead. Vincent knelt to loot the bodies while the others regained their mana. “Just some teeth and one pelt,” Vincent told them as the loot disbursed to its recipients.
“We can get some copper for them at least,” Berga commented as she looked to Vincent. “I’m ready.”
“Looks like we can do this,” Vincent smiled at her. “Let’s show them that we who follow the Dark Lord are not trash.”
“Aye,” Alistern replied fiercely with a toothy grin.
The next three hours were easy enough for them. They took their time slowly clearing the tunnel system of the rats. A little over two hundred rats fell to them in that time, before they reached the end of the tunnel. When they exited the cave, they walked out onto the bank and saw the river stretched out before them.
“We did well,” Stewart smiled.
“Aye, now to do what the others be doin’ and hunt down random mobs in the woods,” Alistern added.
“It’s this way, I’m telling you,” came a voice from above and behind them, along the top of the hill overlooking the river bank.
“We be havin’ company,” Alistern grinned. “Remember, we been told tha’ this be a free-for-all.”
Vincent grimaced, “I’d hoped they forgot.”
A moment later, the same voice called out, “What the hell?” Six faces peered down at them from above. “How did you get here first?”
“We walked, ya daft fool,” Alistern smirked.
Stewart groaned internally at his friend’s incessant need to needle others. “We’re just leaving. You’re free to have at it.”
“We took off at a run from town, there is no way you beat us here…” Another of the other group began, but faded off as he looked at Vincent and the others. “You know where the passage ends, don’t you?”
“We’re leaving,” Vincent said evenly. “You are more than welcome to go into that hole.”
“Kyle, we were told that a little group action was okay,” one of the others said with a grin.
“Vizax,” Alistern said softly, “focus the one that be wearin’ the necklace.”
“Illos, do the same,” Stewart agreed, knowing what was about to happen.
“You know what, Sylver? You’re right,” Kyle laughed. “Six on four is good odds... get them, guys! Focus the girl first, she’s their Cleric.”
“Berga, get behind me,” Vincent said as he got his weapon and shield ready.
Five of the six attackers jumped down the eight feet to the riverbank. One of them landed badly, twisting his ankle. As the teens got close, Alistern and Stewart both went after the one in red robes with their daggers instead of spells.
“Like guttin’ a pig for me Da’,” Alistern laughed when he caught the male teen with the first slice of his blade.
“Help!” the red robed boy yelled out. Two of his allies turned back to help him while Kyle went after Vincent.
“Kill the Imps,” came the panicky voice from the guy on the hill. Fire Blasts had begun to hit him in steady succession. “I can’t heal right if I keep getting burned!”
The two girls who had turned back to help Red Robe pivoted, and instead began to run after the Imps. The Imps led them on a merry chase, running all around both groups while still steadily throwing Fire Blasts at Sylver, the attacking group’s Cleric. “Doug, help out,” one of the boys cried out to the guy who’d twisted his ankle. Doug was just getting to his feet. He took a step and winced, limping badly.
“I can’t chase them with this leg. I’ll help Donald,” Doug said, limping toward Stewart and Alistern.
Alistern grinned wildly as he kept stabbing Donald, “Die like the fucker ya be!”
Stewart spun to face Doug, only to see him holding a two-handed sword. “Well, balls,” Stewart cursed as he compared blade sizes.
“I’ll make it quick if you drop the dagger,” Doug said, trying to sound reasonable.
“Pass. If I did, you would kill my friend,” Stewart replied.
“I tried,” Doug said simply, taking a step forward and swinging with all of his strength. The strike was well aimed, and Stewart lost a good chunk of life as the blade sank into his side. That left Doug balancing on his bad ankle, which meant he tumbled to the ground with a yelp of pain.
Stewart grimaced, darting forward to pin the large blade under his knee as he landed next to Doug and began stabbing him repeatedly. “Nothing personal, just business.”
Doug started to glow red as his hands lashed out, catching Stewart around the neck with one and grabbing Stewart’s weapon hand in the other. “I am going to break you,” Doug growled through the Rage.
Choking and restrained, Stewart saw the debuff for lack of oxygen appear. With no air, he couldn’t cast a spell and his weapon was held immobile. Wishing that his spell would work, his free hand completed the motion to summon a Fire Blast. To his surprise, the spell materialized in his hand. Without waiting to figure it out, he thrust his fire covered hand into Doug’s mouth.
Eyes wide in horror, Doug let go of Stewart and pawed wildly at his own mouth. The attack had landed as a critical, doubling the damage to a sensitive part of the body and burning him badly.
Stewart gasped as he staggered back and away from the Berserker. He looked at his own hand in shock, knowing he hadn’t said the words to summon the magic. He gasped at a sudden sharp pain. Doug had retrieved his sword and shoved it into Stewart’s gut.
“Thewed ew ite,” Doug said around his damaged mouth.
Wincing at the feel of two feet of steel in his gut, Stewart pulled back. He ripped the blade out of his body, coughing up blood as he did. His life bar was dangerously low as he glanced over at Alistern, who had just finished killing Donald.
“Alistern,” Stewart called out, “need some help.”
Alistern’s head whipped around and his eyes widened when he saw how badly damaged Stewart was. He rushed at Doug, who was just getting back to his feet again. “Tha’ be me brother, ya fuckin’ bastard!” Alistern yelled, tackling Doug to the ground again, dagger flashing.
“Imps are dead,” the two women called
out, coming back around to help Doug.
“So is your Defender,” Vincent spat as he slammed into one of them.
“Fuck this, I’m running,” the Cleric on the hillside called out, disappearing.
“Get back here, Sylver!” the other woman called angrily, spinning to help her friend attack Vincent.
“You will lose,” Berga said patiently as she healed Vincent. “Your tank and healer are both gone. Surrender, and we will let you walk away.”
The two women stepped back from Vincent and lowered their weapons, “Truce?”
“On the name of the Dark Lord,” Berga replied formally.
Tales from the Dead Man Inn Page 13