by Hugo Huesca
“That’s insane…” Alder whispered, but Ed could see the idea taking root in the Bard’s mind.
Kes shook her head. “So this is why people advise against having Bards for company. Insanity follows.” She stared at Ed’s talents. “Those two pack a punch alright, no reason to wait until later. Which one are you planning to get?”
“Pledge of bloodshed sounds neat,” Ed said, and then explained his reasoning.
“You should get the armor one,” Kes said when he was done.
“Why?”
“Remember the fight against Karmich and the others?” Kes said. “Even though we won, we didn’t come out unscathed. They were Thieves, not fighters, and yet even Karmich landed a couple of hits with his dagger.” She showed them the spot in her armor where a long gash was carved in. Now that Ed looked at Kes’ armor closely, it was actually nicked and scored in dozens of spots. “The reality of combat is… it’s ugly. No matter how good you are, eventually you’ll get hurt. And a single wound can maim you for life.”
Ed recalled the sickening crunch of Karmich’s ribs as Kes caught him with her power strike. “Good point.”
“Destroying the Dungeon Lord’s enemies is the job of your minions,” Kes went on. “That’s us, Ed. We are your army. A soldier can be replaced—” she gestured severely to shut up Ed, and Alder’s, protests “—but without the General, an army will collapse. Without you to power the Haunt, it isn’t anything but pretty rocks, and if you get killed by a random arrow, then the rest of us will die soon afterward. Just like what happened with Kael Arpadel.”
At the mention of his predecessor, Ed lowered his hands. Kes is right. Most of the Arpadel minions had been hunted down and killed as they tried to leave Starevos. Only Alder and Lavy had survived. I couldn’t do that to them, make them relive that again. “Very well, Kes, you win,” he said. “Pledge of armor it is.”
He’d have to do with silver and holy blessings instead of the magical effects of pledge of bloodshed. A flash of his Evil Eye, and he was fifty experience points lighter and in the possession of a powerful, new talent.
“Any difference?” Alder asked him. “It should be active now, right? With your leather armor.”
“Dunno.” Ed shrugged. “I feel the same as always.”
“That’s because it’s a passive talent,” Kes said. Without warning, she threw a light punch at Ed’s chest.
It had been a solid hit, but it somehow felt as if it had merely glanced off.
“See? There it is, all right,” Kes said.
“I was hoping for something flashier,” said Ed.
“If you want magical sparks, just wait until you get hit for real.”
“In that case,” Ed said, “I’m good without sparks for the time being.”
During the return trip, they met with a small group of spider warriors that patrolled the nearby area of the forest. Ed returned his remaining spiderling to them.
While the spider warriors escorted Ed and the others to the Haunt, they gave news from the two days of absence, chattering in their snapping voices.
Queen Laurel’s war of conquest was going well. A rival Queen was dead, and another had sworn loyalty to the Haunt, and to Laurel, who was now recovering from her wounds inside her nest. Winter and snow had forced a ceasefire to the fighting, since the bigger horned spiders hibernated during the winter, leaving the protection of their nests to the spiderlings—most of which died due to the cold and the predators, anyway.
Kaga and his other kaftar waited for Ed at the Haunt. The spider warriors reported that the kaftar seemed pleased with the experience points they had earned during the fighting, but were eager to receive their due wage. Ed had the money, but knew he would have to convince them to wait on the second part of the deal: he hadn’t found a martial master to train them, yet.
If they didn’t agree to wait a bit more, the Haunt would be left more vulnerable, but at least Ed could use the extra money on runes and silver weaponry. Perhaps some spell scrolls for Lavy to learn new magic, which she sorely needed.
“What about the new Queen?” Ed asked the spider warriors. “The one now serving Queen Laurel?”
The spider warriors exchanged worried, confused glances, as if deciding what they could tell Ed. He realized with dismay that he was accustomed enough to horned spiders that he could read their body language.
“It remains to be seen,” the bigger warrior said, “if Queen Salina will keep her part of the deal. Her cluster took heavy damage during the fight, and she was defiant to the very end. She probably agreed to the pact only because it will give her cluster time to replenish in strength. After that…”
Ed nodded. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t expected. For his spider empire plan to work, Laurel would need to conquer many clusters, not just one, so a single Queen wouldn’t feel tempted to break the pact and attempt a coup. Of course, having to deal with many subordinate Queens meant that Laurel would have to learn a new kind of politics very, very fast.
“What about Queen Salina’s cluster?” Ed asked. “How do you feel about them?” Another key ingredient of his plan was to have the different clusters learn to cooperate with each other.
“They lost,” said the warrior plainly, “so they’re weaker than us. They should be food. To let them live and give them a place—even a subordinate one—in our chain of command… it feels wrong, my Lord. Forgive me for my candidness, but we’ve heard you encourage your minions to speak their mind. This alliance isn’t natural.”
Natural isn’t always what’s best, Ed thought. “Thanks for your opinion,” he told the warrior. “I’ll keep it in mind.” He made a mental note not to have the clusters work closely together for a while. He’d have to sort it out with Laurel, after winter was over.
The spiders left shortly thereafter as Ed and the others reached the outskirts of the Haunt’s encampment. Kes frowned nervously to herself as they went.
“Is anything wrong?” Ed asked.
She raised a hand to ask for silence, then listened, her face a mask of concentration as her gaze scrutinized the shrubbery. Ed lowered his hand until he found the hilt of his short sword…
“Just the wind,” Kes said. Alder let out a loud sigh—he had been holding his breath. “I thought something was following us, but it's clearly my nerves.”
Ed nodded, smiled, then his eyes flashed green for an instant and four drones went running to the section where Kes had been looking. They searched the place, turning and uprooting bushes and small vegetation, but there was nothing there.
“What did I just say?” Kes asked, peeved, as Ed dismissed the drones.
“Better safe than sorry,” he told her. “I guess my nerves are bit on edge, too, Kes.”
As Ed and the others neared the Haunt’s entrance, he sent a drone to gather the dungeon’s inhabitants. Someone waited for him at the entrance, though, a hunched humanoid figure covered in coarse fur.
“Kaga,” Ed said when they reached the kaftar. “Long time no see.”
“Indeed, Lord Wright,” said Kaga with that raspy voice of his. “As you can see, the quest you demanded of my cackle is moving along nicely.” He stood as tall as he could, which wasn’t easy given that all kaftar were naturally hunchbacks.
“Kes,” Alder whispered. “Is that what I think it is?” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the kaftar.
Kaga was wearing a new armor, which was black and had a thick, ridged surface. Ed had to do a double take before he realized the armor was fashioned out of a horned spider’s exoskeleton. The kaftar had made a pair of daggers out of the fangs, and even a shield out of the spider face, horn still attached.
“I kinda want one,” Kes whispered back to Alder.
So that’s what happened to the Queen that Laurel and Kaga killed. “Is Laurel okay with you wearing that?” Ed asked aloud.
The kaftar shrugged. “You know horned spiders. As long as it wasn’t their Queen I killed, they don’t give a wet damn.” He barked a shrill lau
gh, then smacked his palm against the shield, which made a dull, solid noise. “Very good material, spider chitin. Lighter than iron, but sturdier than leather.” The kaftar scratched the fur under his snout, picked a flea, and ate it. “If you want, Lord Wright, I can ask Yumiya to fashion one for you. After, of course, we finish our contract.”
Ed winced and flashed the kaftar his most charming smile. “Yes,” he said. “About that…”
“You are satisfied with our performance, yes?” Kaga inquired with a saccharine tone, which implied Ed was treading dangerous waters. “We’ve done everything you asked of us. It’s time for our conditions to be fulfilled.”
“That’s right,” Ed said. He gave Kaga the bag with the sixty vyfaras. “Here’s the first month’s payment for a squad of five.”
Kaga raised an eyebrow. “Only five?” He took out a vyfara and bit the triangular coin, which remained unaffected. This seemed to satisfy him.
“All I can afford right now,” Ed said. “Also, we have your special training center built. We’ll furnish it with weapons soon enough… There’s only one problem. Your teacher? We haven’t found him yet.”
The kaftar made a canine grunt. “No martial artist? That’s the most important part of our deal, Lord Wright.”
“I know,” Ed said gravely. “And I give you my word I’ll get you one. But right now, there’s pressing matters I must attend to. Life or death.” He looked the kaftar in his yellowish eyes. “If having to wait a month—a fully paid one—for your trainer is a deal breaker, please decide on that so soon.” He knew that the kaftar cackle would be an important source of his dungeon’s military strength, but he also couldn’t focus on finding the martial expert with the threat of Nicolai looming around.
Kaga sighed. “I’ll have to discuss the matter with my cackle. Suffice it to say, they won’t be happy. But perhaps I can convince them. The experience we got for dealing with the spiders has my warriors very excited to work with you.”
“If it helps,” Kes told the kaftar while Ed and Alder ventured inside the dungeon, “I can train with your warriors during the first month. At least it’ll keep your skills sharp. I’m no pushover.” Looking over his shoulder, Ed caught a respectful nod from the kaftar.
Three people waited for him past the Haunt’s entrance: Andreena, Zachary, and Heorghe. Ed noticed that the defensive spears placed around the tunnels now sported iron tips.
Heorghe nodded proudly when he caught Ed looking. “I had some free time during your absence, Edward.”
“Glad to see that,” Ed told him with a smile, then handed him the bag with the silver dust. “Here’s another project,” he said as the blacksmith examined the contents. “I fear we’re going to need silver weapons fairly soon.”
“There’s about half a kilo of dust in here, right?” Heorghe asked. He pursed his lips. “It won't be enough.”
“I know,” Ed said. Then he searched his belt’s pockets and took out the three smoke-bombs he had looted from Karmich. He explained to Heorghe what they were. “There’s an explosive powder inside them,” Ed said. “If you could tinker—very carefully—with it, add some silver dust to the mix…”
Heorghe flashed an interested smile. “I see. Stepping into a cloud infused with silver could be unpleasant for any undead.” He examined the bombs. “It should be an easy modification. Hell, I’ll make the prototypes right now, if there isn’t anything else you want to discuss.”
Ed shook his head, and the blacksmith headed for his forge.
As he left, Andreena stepped up, cheerful as always. She was carrying a tray filled with about two dozen tin flasks. “I’ve had some free time, too, Ed. The batblins are getting the hang of the brewing business—I finally convinced them to stop bathing in the mix barrels.” She took three flasks out and handed one each to Ed, Alder, and Kes. “Check it out. The first batch of mass-produced vitality potions. They’re very low-power, of course, but I’m close to earning enough skill ranks to brew more potent mixtures soon.” She beamed with pride.
Alder rotated his flask a couple of times and sniffed its contents—maybe to search for any scent of batblins. “I’m going to need a couple of these after Kes’ training sessions,” he said.
“Nonsense,” Kes told him sternly. “No trainee of mine is going to depend on performance-enhancing magic.” She glowered at the Bard until he sighed and put the flask down.
After Andreena, it was Zachary’s turn. The priest shuffled toward Ed with a self-satisfied grin. In the month he had been living in the Haunt, the man had managed to put on some weight, in almost direct defiance of the laws of thermodynamics and common sense.
“As you can see, Burrova’s finest have been hard at work since you left,” Zachary said. “They are inspired by the good work of Alita’s most humble servant—me.” He gave a curtsy. “Now that everyone knows of your honest intention in siding with the pious and the faithful, they’re motivated to follow in your footsteps.”
Ed wanted to point at the villagers outside—their attitudes toward the Haunt were still unchanged. After all, despite his pompousness, Zachary probably thought he was actually helping. “Thanks, Zachary. How did the holy water turn out? Did you run into any problems?”
Zachary stroked his trimmed beard. “It’s the strangest thing, even accounting for the unholy emanations natural of a dungeon, I’ve been having a hard time performing the blessing ritual.” He frowned. “It’s like something is running interference near my chapel.” He shrugged and patted his tunic until he found a crystal vial filled with water. “Still, thanks to the power of my faith, I’ve managed to succeed. This vial will last you a couple days. I’ve a bit more holy water in reserve, in case any villagers want me to bless their food.”
As Ed handled the vial, a shot of cold pain, like being stabbed with a long needle, extended through his palm and up his arm. A sense of dread enveloped his body—it was like an invisible hand was enclosing around his heart.
Ed winced and placed the vial in one of his belt’s pockets. Everything went back to normal. So Alita doesn’t care about good intentions, after all.
“Are you all right?” Alder asked him. “You went pale all of a sudden.”
Zachary studied him with a blank expression.
“I’m just tired from the trip,” Ed said with a dismissive wave of his hand. To change the subject, he took out Karmich’s throwing knives and handed them to Zachary, still in their leather straps. “Could you try your hand at blessing these?” He wanted the priest to experiment with a small knife first, just in case something went wrong and the weapon was ruined because of being blessed inside a dungeon.
The priest took his leave. Ed started on the path to the Mess Hall to eat dinner, but then Lavy and Klek arrived together.
“There you are,” the Witch said as a manner of greeting. She grinned at Alder and Kes. “Glad to see Undercity spat you out, in the end.”
“Trust me,” Alder said with a shiver, “it was a close call. You wouldn’t believe how many times we risked our lives in only two days.”
“You traveled with Ed,” Lavy said, “so I doubt I’ll be surprised. You can tell me all about it during dinner, yes?”
“I’m not surprised you three are safe,” Klek said. The batblin carried a small bag in his hands, and he moved very carefully with it, as if it were full of fragile crystal. “With Lord Ed and Kes around, there was nothing to be scared of.”
Kes coughed politely and lifted a hand to cover her face. Ed caught a glimpse of a blush. “You won’t get me to go easy on you during training by sweet-talking me, Klek,” the mercenary said.
“Maybe this will,” said Lavy. She carefully took the bag out of Klek’s hands, opened it, and produced a polished gray rock. It had a purple glyph engraved on it, a sign unfamiliar to Ed. “A rune, of sorts. I lack the materials to make a decent one, so the magic only lasts a couple days before fading off… but my skill ranks increase all the same, so I consider it practice.” She handed the rock over for E
d to examine. The engraving seemed fainter than the blue glyphs of the normal runes he had used in the past, but the magic was there, nonetheless. “It has a charge of witch spray,” Lavy explained. “There’s also two runes with crow familiar in them.”
“Great,” said Ed. He gave Lavy a happy smile. “You’re improving really fast, aren’t you?”
“Of course! That’s my incredible talent at work!” She cackled only a tad madly. “Keep throwing resources my way and I’ll keep feeding arcane might to the Haunt!”
She and the others headed out to the Mess Hall, where the drones were hard at work serving dinner. Ed remained behind for a moment, so he could take mental measure of the resources of the Haunt.
His Evil Eye blazed for a minute as he summoned the magical data of his dungeon:
The Wraith’s Haunt
Dungeon Lord Edward Wright.
Drones 30
Dominant Material Cave Rock
Threat 60 - Local - Represents how aware the outside world is of the dungeon and how willing / able / ready they are to do something about it. A 100 indicates imminent destruction.
Offense 2500 - A representation of the strength a dungeon’s forces can muster during an attack (raid or invasion) outside the dungeon itself. It represents the experience they would award, as a group, if they were defeated (but not absorbed).
Defense 3500 - The experience the population of a dungeon would award if they were to be defeated (but not absorbed) during the defense of said dungeon. It’s multiplied by a percentage given by the dungeon’s upgrades and defenses.
Magic Generated 10 - Measures the magic created by the Sacred Grounds that can be put to use in different endeavors or to power dungeon upgrades.
Magic Consumed 1 - Measures how much magic is consumed.
Population
57 Humans (3 combatants)
1 Avian combatant
124 Batblins (26 batblin combatants)