The Land: Catacombs (Chaos Seeds Book 4)

by Aleron Kong

  “Ah! Stop! Good god stop!” he said quickly. The chamberlain stopped. Richter exhaled a sigh of relief. Then he looked at Randolphus and decided to seize this rare quiet moment. “There actually is something that I wanted to ask you about. That bitch Sonirae was an Assassin. When I analyzed her, I saw that being an Assassin was a Specialization of the Rogue Profession. How does one become a Specialist? Do you know anything about it?”

  Randolphus look at him with an inscrutable expression. Richter looked back at him slightly confused, but then the chamberlain’s face smoothed, and he started speaking as if nothing had happened, so Richter wondered if he had imagined it.

  “Well, my lord. As you may already know, to obtain a noncombat Profession you must reach a personal level of ten and be a journeyman in a relevant skill. To obtain a combat Profession, you must be a personal level of twenty and also be a journeyman. Each level that you reach after you obtain your Profession, you are allocated a certain number of Talent points. To become a Specialist, you must reach a personal level of thirty and have saved enough points to ‘buy’ the Specialty.”

  Randolphus’s answer just made a dozen more questions for Richter. “How many Talent points do you get per level? How much does it cost to buy a Specialty? How many specialties are there?” The questions came rapid-fire and, for once, the chamberlain was the one who looked overwhelmed.

  “There are many factors that affect the answers to your questions, my lord. Certain races have a predisposition to certain Professions and so obtain more Talent points per level. Consequently, you may suffer a penalty depending on your race if you choose the wrong Profession. That is why you don’t see many gnome Barbarians. Humans typically have no racial predispositions or weaknesses, though this is not always the case. Humans born on the Twins typically make better Sailors, for instance, my lord. Also, the affinity you have for whichever skill got you into the Profession also affects how many Talent points you are given. There are also other random factors that can affect a person’s Profession. Humans normally get ten Talent points to distribute per level, but as all of this varies from person to person, no specific numbers have ever been recorded with any accuracy.”

  Richter nodded with resignation. Same shit. Nothing could ever be easy. At least he should get a bump if Randy was right about having a high affinity. His Limitless ability would continue to help him progress. He held off on any more questions as several of the villagers arrived with their food and drink. One of the main cooks was with them and was holding a plate covered by a cloth handkerchief.

  “My lord, we tried to follow your instructions as best we could. I hope that you are pleased.”

  Richter took the covered plate and Analyzed the woman to get her name. “Thank you, Claren. I’m sure it will be wonderful.” He made a mental note to see which of his cooks was of the highest level. He thought the idea of having a noncombatant villager accompany hunting parties was possibly high risk, but definitely high reward. Who knew what a Professed Cook might be able to do for his people on a daily basis.

  Not wanting to wait any longer, he ripped off the cloth and sighed in contentment. Richter had never seen such a beautiful sight. He was so overcome with emotion that he got choked up. In front of him lay a thick slice of fresh bread, topped with a leaf of lettuce, a slice of tomato and… a ground patty of fresh beef blessed with a thick slab of melted cheese, FOUR slices of crispy bacon and finally, another slice of bread. A tear escaped his eye as he saw his first hamburger in months.

  “Are you well, my lord?” Randolphus asked with a faint amount of concern.

  Richter didn’t respond. He just took the miracle in front of him in both hands and treated himself to a deep bite. An explosion of wonder and spices filled his mouth. His eyes closed in bliss, and a faint croon came from the center of his being. The grease in the burger burned his tongue ever so slightly, and the smokiness of the bacon perfectly balanced the sharpness of the cheese. A smile graced his face, giving him a chipmunk appearance as his cheeks were still stuffed from the large bite.

  Sion walked up just as Richter swallowed the first bite and asked the same question Randolphus had. The Lord of the Mist Village simply said, “They should have sent a poet.”

  Everyone else that Richter had requested came to grace the high table. As the hundreds of villagers enjoyed good food and better comradery, so too did Richter’s friends and confidants. He sat back and savored every single bite of his burger, one of the things he had missed most from Earth. True there was no ketchup yet, but Richter resolved to fight one battle at a time.

  After he was done eating, he left the table and walked around amongst the villagers. Terrod insisted upon accompanying him, citing that more than half of the people present were new to the village. After his encounter with Sonirae, Richter didn’t argue. Randolphus came as well. Richter spent the next hour or so just walking among his people, shaking hands, sharing laughs, and listening to their compliments and complaints. Many people were deeply invested in their food or ongoing conversations, so they simply smiled and bowed their heads as their liege passed. Many others were well on their way to being deep in their cups, so they didn’t even realize he was walking by. Richter was happy to see his people enjoying themselves. More than that, he felt… fulfilled. He had made a home that he could be proud of and proud he was.

  As great as walking around was, Richter realized he needed to give his speech quickly if he wanted people to still be coherent. Already loud shouting was coming from a group of dwarves, and a bit of shoving had broken out between two humans apparently vying for the affection of a young wood elf lass. Richter spoke to Randolphus, who nodded and began leading the way back to the raised stage at the end of the picnic tables. He sent Futen to ask Sion and the others to join him.

  Richter climbed the stairs and looked out over the festivities. Laughter abounded, and many of the children seemed to be playing a game of tag whose rules shifted from moment to moment. People began to notice him on the stage and started chanting his name. The call was picked up by others, and soon the feast resounded with “Lord Richter! Lord Richter! Lord Richter!”

  He raised his arms first in happy reception of the chant but then turned his palms downward to quiet his people. Soon silence reigned, and the people waited to hear what their lord had to say.

  “I hope you are all having a good time!” Cheers broke out again, and Richter had to wait for them to die down.

  “As I said before, this feast is a celebration of the accomplishments of those who have been here. It is also a welcome to those who are new here. There is a third reason, however. When many of us got off of the boats from Yves, this village was barely discernable from unbroken wilderness. It was raw material, and so were we. Times are changing now. We have made this place into the beginnings of a village. We have made ourselves into the beginnings of a community.” Many of the first-wave villagers were nodding and sharing looks of pride. Most of the new people were just looking a bit uneasy, unsure as to where this was going. They were used to leaders taking whatever they wished, whenever they wanted. Richter was still an unknown to them, and they feared for their futures.

  “Things are changing,” he repeated. “We are getting larger and stronger, but that means others are taking notice of us. We have been attacked and suffered losses. I have been attacked personally by agents of Ronin, the head of the Night Blades.” Many of the villagers shouted out, some in anger and some in dismay. They all knew of the bloody underworld leader. They had all heard of Richter’s raid on Ronin’s base and his freeing of the nonhumans, most of whom were now villagers.

  Behind him a woman called his name. Richter turned his head and saw Isabella looking back at him with determination on her face. Gone was the wounded creature who had hidden beneath the branches of the Quickening for weeks. Who he saw now was a woman who had chosen to stand and face both her past and future head-on.

  “May I speak, my lord?” she asked. Richter nodded and stepped back. She took th
e center stage.

  “I have already told my story to those who came here before, but for those of you who are new, I will tell you what our lord has done for us. What he has done for me! Lord Richter fought the Night Blades in their very base of power to save many of us. After he had already saved so many, he infiltrated the home of Count Stonuk to find me. Still he wasn’t done, though. To bring me to safety he fought through an ambush of the Night Blades. An ambush that claimed the life of my husband’s long-time friend, Jeremy.” Richter looked over at Terrod, but the man just stared straight ahead, his jaw tight.

  Isabella continued speaking with intense emotion. “Since that time we have suffered an unprovoked attack by the bugbears. How many of you did Lord Richter save? How many of you fought next to him side by side as he worked to defend our people? Who stood with him as he comforted the families of the lost afterward?”

  Shouts of “Me!” “I fought with the lord!” “We showed those bugbears they should never have come!” rung out from the crowd. The villagers were getting fired up. Isabella still wasn’t done, though. “And he saved my love! When those horrible people took Terrod away, our lord immediately chased after those people and SINGLE HANDEDLY slew them both and rescued his Companion. That is the type of person that our lord is. He is someone who has given me power of my own!”

  She extended her hand and cast Slow Heal I. There was no target to her spell, but the gold glow surrounded her hand, bright enough to be seen despite the torches and mist light. The villagers exclaimed loudly. “This very day, Lord Richter gave me the power to heal. He is someone we can trust. He is someone we can put our faith in. He is someone that I pledge my fealty to!”

  With that, she carefully arranged her skirts and then went down on one knee. “I formally swear allegiance and loyalty to you, my Lord Richter. From now, unto my very death, I will protect you and your interests, to the best of my ability and without deceit.”

  Richter was shocked. He hadn’t expected such a profound and public show of support. He walked forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I accept your oath of fealty, and swear to honor your pledge with the same gravity in which it was given.” He offered his hand and helped her back to her feet. He continued to hold her hand as he addressed his people.

  “I make the same pledge to all who swear fealty. The same pledge that I have made from the very beginning. As I rise, so too will you rise.” Shouts and cheers echoed out. “Just north of us in the meadow, a celestial tree bears fruit that will increase our affinities. Our Smith is forging enchanted weapons and armor in the Forge of Heavens to better prepare us for future battles. The winds of change are upon us, and they blow in our direction!” Raucous shouts of happiness rung out in the crowd.

  Richter waited for the crowd to quiet again. “I have decided to extend the same terms to our new villagers as I have to the old. You will be paid a fair wage for your work. You will be fed, and you will have a place to stay. These terms will last until the end of the year that my original villagers agreed to. After that, all will be paid for work as appropriate and will pay for everything else from these wages.” There was an almost palpable sigh of relief. The people who had just come to the village had left all they had known. They had boarded ships in the blind hope that the lord of a forest village would welcome them. It was entirely possible that this unknown leader could have killed them or sold them into slavery. That had been the extent of their desperation to leave Yves. The news that they would be treated fairly and with respect was like a dream come true.

  “Everyone here has a choice to make, however. The same choice that you just saw Isabella make. This village is going to be a haven of law and justice. It will continue to be a home for those who need and deserve it. Only those who swear fealty will enjoy the special benefits of residing here, the fruit of the Quickening, the weapons of the Forge, Potions of Clarity and”—he held Isabella’s hand high—“my ability to awaken your magical power. I want to say again, that any who do not swear fealty will be treated fairly. Nothing will change for you. For those of you who will bend the knee once, though, I promise I will help you to stand for the rest of your life. What do you choose?” His voice rose through his speech and at the end he was shouting. Isabella’s hand was still in his, and she looked out at the crowd, radiating confidence.

  “I swear fealty!” came a shout from the villagers.

  “Lord Richter!” came another.

  “Lord Richter and the Mist Village!”

  Then the shouts grew too numerous to hear. The villagers surged to their feet and amassed in front of the stage. Most of the first wave of villagers was there. Not too many of the second group of immigrants seemed ready to bend the knee, but Richter was not bothered by this. As he looked out over the mass of loyal followers, he knew that he had time. Shouts of his name continued to fill the air. Despite the fact that he could bend the elements to his will, in that moment he realized that he was experiencing his first true taste of power.

  He liked it.

  CHAPTER 10

  Randolphus organized all those who chose to swear fealty into a line, and they came up to the top of the stage, one after another. The music started again, and the procession adopted a festive air. Sumiko stood next to him and cast Soul’s Window on each as they gave their oaths. Happily, everyone that swore fealty was genuine. It took several more hours, but ultimately two hundred and thirty-seven people bent the knee. Almost every one of his old villagers came forward as well as dozens of the new villagers.

  Some villagers brought their children up to pledge allegiance, but after he saw the first small wood elf girl walking towards him, he put a stop to it. A command to Randolphus was all it took, and an official decree was made. No one under the age of fourteen could swear fealty. In all honesty, even that was creepily young as far as he was concerned, but the chamberlain had whispered to him that fourteen was the age of adulthood in the River Peninsula.

  He was happy to see Quasea, Ulinde, and Zarr amongst those who pledged their loyalty. All of the nonhuman elders he had met within Terrod’s inn so long ago did as well. It also wasn’t a big surprise but was still reassuring, when Caulder bent the knee. His example brought most of the other guards and their families in line.

  The ceremony would have gone faster, but for two things. He used Analyze on every person that bent the knee and also took the time to try and awaken their Life and Air magic. After analyzing about eighty of them, he got a series of prompts that brought a smile to his face.

  Congratulations! You have reached skill level 10 in Analyze. Your understanding of others has deepened on an intrinsic level.

  You have received 2,500 (base 2,000) bonus experience for reaching level 10 in the skill: Analyze.

  Congratulations! You have advanced from the rank Novice to the rank of Initiate in: Analyze. In addition to the information you already receive, you will also be provided with an abbreviated status page showing the creature’s attributes.

  Well, that could come in useful, Richter thought happily. His good mood was improved at the number of mages he was able to awaken. When all was said and done, he was able to make three more Air mages from the new villagers, and thirty-two adult Life magi between the two groups. Most of the new Life magi came from the old villagers, showing again how lucky everyone was that had been present at the birth of the Quickening.

  A wonderful surprise was that Krom had the affinity to become a Life mage. The shocked expression on the dwarf’s face was priceless. Richter began to laugh and soon his Smith joined him. Weeping was a far more common reaction in many of the villagers. At first, Richter had been concerned, but he soon saw they were tears of joy, and many of the villagers embraced him when the magic was kindled inside of them. One man explained that for his whole life he had felt incomplete, like a piece of his soul was missing. With tears in his eyes, he told Richter that he now felt a hole inside of him had been filled.

  Each time he was able to feel a resonance inside of one of his sub
jects, he taught them the level-one spells that he knew for that discipline. His new Life novices were taught Charm I, Soul Trap, Weak Cure, and Slow Heal I. All of the Air mages learned Haste I and Weak Errant Wind. Whether they were Air or Life magicians, the way they looked at him afterward was the same, with adoration and loyalty. Richter had to disable the prompts telling him that his people’s disposition towards him had improved. Each new caster’s disposition rose by one or two levels.

  Once the ceremony was done, he left the stage and walked among the children of those who had sworn fealty. With their parents’ blessing, he awakened magic in as many as he could. He was able to awaken Air magic in two of the children and Life magic in seventeen more. Randolphus was nearby to record the starting spells of all of them. Most simply received Slow Heal I or Weak Cure, but one received Cure Minor Disease. Other notable spells were Summon Luminous Butterfly, which just seemed to conjure a dozen small glowing white butterflies for a minute, and Call Small Creature, which would bring the closest small creature running to them. For the next five minutes, it would obey simple commands. What Richter was most impressed by, however, was Life Beacon. The spell shot a glowing gold ball high into the air. It would let anyone within a mile know that help was needed even if they could not see the light. The knowledge seemed to be instinctual. If they were ever attacked again, the spell could be invaluable.

  Richter was relieved that none of the children had been granted battle magic. The idea of a petulant five-year-old casting Charm I on her parents was not something he wanted to contemplate. He had known there was a chance that might happen, but the opportunity to have children train for years in their magic and one day be high-level magic users to fight for his cause was too good to pass up. He would be lying if he said that it hadn’t also occurred to him that children growing up knowing that they owed their greatest resource to him might in turn feel a great deal of loyalty through the years. Richter saw hushed discussions occurring between some of the parents who hadn’t sworn fealty. Seeing such a tangible boon given to other people’s children and not their own clearly gave them a lot to think about.