“But by the looks on both your faces I’m guessing it’s a little more important than that?” Logan asked.
“The seer said Fourth Age of Acadia, Logan.” Bipp stated, as it if should be clear.
“Yeah, what’s such a big deal? We all know it’s the year 396 and the fourth century is upon us.” He replied, not understanding their cryptic explanations.
“What Brillfilbipp here means to point out, and your human mind is not perceiving, is the mention of Acadia. I don’t know about you Falians, but us gnomes of Vanidriell stopped referring to Acadia ages ago, when we first came down here. The only time any of us even say it is when we are talking about…” The hairs on Logan’s neck rose and goose bumps trickled across his forearms as the realization hit him.
“…the surface world.” He said, finishing the mayor’s sentence.
“Exactly.” Fimbas clapped the volume shut and placed it back on the shelf. Moving to a nearby table, he stretched out a tall scroll across it, holding down the edges with a paperweight and a fantasy book he had been reading. Logan could see it was a map of Vanidriell, unlike any he had ever known of, showing dozens of gnome settlements. The mayor traced a path with his thick ringed forefinger, starting at Dudje.
“This is where we are now, and if I’m correct, which is usually the case, you need to follow the Winding Trail east until you hit Green Serpent River again. Then work your way northward keeping on the river’s course, until you reach….” The mayor stopped at a fork in the river, and silently followed it right, to the town of Mushroom Hollow. Shaking his head he started over, following left instead where it flowed a short distance before disappearing into a marked sink hole, before which he confidently tapped, grumbling under his breath, marking Logan’s destination.
“Sweet mother of pearl.” Bipp cursed, jaw hanging open and staring wide eyed at where the mayor’s forefinger rested.
“Watch your mouth, young gnome.” Fimbas admonished.
Logan pointed around that section of the map “What is that area there?”
“It makes sense to hear the words now… Beauford must have seen you traveling to the ruins of Ul’kor.” As the place was mentioned, both gnomes crossed their fingers twice over their hearts, muttering an incantation. “Tis the ancient site of Gnome civilization in the underworld, a massive kingdom only whispered about over campfires, human. Aye, if there were ever a place of truth, ‘twould be there for sure.” Fimbas reckoned.
“Not sure I like the sound of this place.” Logan said.
“Wouldn’t be blamin’ you for that, even the most stalwart gnomish treasure hunters know better than to try their luck at Ul’kor. The place was the site of a great evil, a huge war waged on our very doorstep; pushed we gnome’s deeper into the underworld, lad.” Fimbas replied.
“What happened there that could drive out a whole city of gnomes?” Logan wondered aloud.
“Not just our race were driven out, was humans and bullywogs that lived there too. Not for knowin’ what it was that happened there, all the gnomes from back then have long since passed into the glorious halls of Vallhalla. And don’t you think none of ‘em were talkin’ too much about it when we was youngsters, the mere mention would get ye done over real good and that was if ye were lucky.” Fimbas scrunched his face up thinking of the place.
“Well, it sounds like something that happened ages ago. Why haven’t your people ever reclaimed the land?” Logan asked.
“Whatever it was scattered us, to build new homes all across Vanidriell. Once they were built, not many wanted to go back for the cursed place. Meant having to rebuild all over again, and what’s the point; it’s too far up anyhow, thin air up in those parts. The few foolish enough to try their luck never returned, except one mighty warrior of legend, and that was my own da. He used to tell stories about how he got close enough to see that the area is now completely overrun with cobolds and their wicked pets.” Fimbas brooded over the past.
Most people would hear this and run in the opposite direction, most people would understand the weight of fear that played in the mighty gnome leader’s words. After all, legends always came from some measure of truth, but Logan Walker was not most people, he was the boy who dreamed of adventuring in the forests of Malbec, searching for lost treasures, and coming back to town a hero with women fawning over him. He could not help the devious look that spread over his face as the possibility of those very adventures were now being laid out before him.
“Looks like I need some supplies, Bipp, I’m going to Ul’kor!” Logan resounded enthusiastically.
“Count me in!” The little gnome dashed over to his friend to jump in the air and slap his hand in excitement and they laughed for a moment, forgetting their manners in the presence of the mayor, who sobered them up under a withering glare.
“This is by no means some trivial task you are choosing to embark upon.” Fimbas warned.
“I understand that Mayor... I do, we do not mean to take it lightly.” Logan apologized, showing a little humility for once.
“Brillfilbipp, if you insist on accompanying this human to Ul’kor, I must demand sending some sort of protection for you.” No sooner did the mayor call for his guards to get Grubble, then the gnomes above clambered in the ceiling passageway and the chamber door was swinging back open. The old, grouchy gnome warrior tentatively approached his mayor.
“Grubblefrop Gilviri, you who have long served the Town of Dudje faithfully, I have a request for you.” Mayor Fimbas began.
“Sure you be sayin’ request, but from the tone it’s soundin’ more likely to be an order from, milord.” The bedraggled gnome replied.
“Quite the same thing last I recall. You will accompany loyal Brillfilbipp here to the ruins of Ul’kor.” At this, the veteran’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, bushy eyebrows arching in surprise.
“Tis madness… surely ye cannot be meaning...” Grubble gasped.
“I can and I am. The madness here would be for us to let young Bipp here go on a journey of such magnitude only the likes of Grubblefrop Gilviri could handle it. Surely you can dispense a handful of cobolds, even at yer old age, eh? Besides, it’s long past time you got out and carved a couple more notches into yer belt. You don’t think I don’t be knowing how bored you are sitting in front of me doors all day?” the mayor deftly coaxed the warrior.
“It is my honor to serve as Captain of the guard yer lordship.” Grubble replied halfheartedly.
“Bah, drop the humility; I can already see the look in yer eyes, lusting for adventure.” Logan noted that there was certainly a different look about the warrior, although he was not sure it was one of excitement. “Now you go get ready for the road, its leaving first thing in the morning for the lot of you. And make sure our engineer here gets back safely, or at least mostly in one piece.” Fimbas dismissed them.
“It will be done, milord.” Grubble gave an obnoxiously mocking bow before the trio headed out to get some sleep for the evening, they would be setting out first thing in the morning, and Logan wanted to be well rested.
Lady Cassandra pushed her mind, probing the vast distance of the wild lands, riding on currents of psychic energy to find Corbin. She needed to speak with him and was just about to establish a connection when he had been knocked unconscious by a frying pan. Any conversation they were able to have after that would likely be forgotten, or written off as an after effect of the blow.
A commotion in the passageway outside instinctively brought her sharply back into her corporeal form. As she reentered her body, she could hear the guard apologizing that he could not let anyone in under Magistrate Fafnir’s personal orders.
“I don’t care if the All-Father himself came down here, tugged on your ear, and gave you the orders. Fafnir has no rule over the Twelve; you will obey as you are told, citizen.” Cassandra smiled, Elder Esther was not one to be bullied, and certainly never by a dungeon guard.
The rusty iron wrought gate crea
ked open, every time the thing moved it hurt her ears. Visitors filled up an area in front of the barred cell and Lady Cassandra stood, mussing her robes into a more presentable shape. She was embarrassed that her friends would see her in such a state, and could not help feeling self-conscious about the fact that she had not bathed in two days, smelling her unwashed skin under dirty cloth.
“Greetings, Elder Esther.” She bowed respectfully.
“You do not kneel to anyone, Lady Cassandra.” Elder Esther retorted like a whip. “After all these years, everything we have all been through together, you bow to no one.”
“I thank you for your gracious words, Elder.” Cassandra said bowing slightly again, after almost two centuries it was a hard habit to break.
The other three council members and two lords greeted her with proper decorum. “We are calling in favors from all corners of the city, milady. Soon enough we will have you out of this dreadful place.” Sir Robert assured her.
“And into that empty council seat as well.” Esther added, the council members had been working all morning gathering support for her cause. They would not stand for her being locked up under such ridiculous charges. Teaching magic was outlawed, true enough, they themselves were the ones to write that law into existence.
“But that was meant for destructive magic, as Fafnir knows well enough. To haul you down here for sharing the art of telepathy, after all these years, it’s nothing short of ludicrous.” Elder Marcus said. Everyone knew he took on a new apprentice every cycle, keeping the art of telepathy alive. Just as Lady Cassandra had taken Jayne in, seeing her potential from the moment they met, and training her to be a disciple of the psionic arts.
“If we are not keeping the teachings alive, how will our successors survive when we are all gone?” Lady Cassandra pointed out.
“That’s right, but this Fafnir does not think the same way. He expects us to live on forever, just because we have already made it all these years.” Esther referred to one of the popular rumors about the magistrate, although Cassandra was not so sure it was correct. There seemed to be something else behind his nefarious motives to gain power, he had shifted somehow in the last quarter century but she was not sure why.
They spoke for a bit longer, swearing allegiance to her cause before departing. None of them felt good about leaving her there alone in a cell, being treated like a common criminal. Jayne and John stayed behind to talk in private. Jayne had looked angry since she arrived, the sight of her mentor locked away in this musty cell made her blood boil.
“Jayne, what is it, dear?” she spoke tenderly, soothing her apprentice.
“I mustered the clergy members, and got the support of the labor leaders. Tonight they are going to gather out in front of this dungeon again and demand your release.” Jayne was passionate, excited at the prospect of all those voices uniting to her Ladyship’s cause.
“Hmmm…that could be dangerous for them.” Cassandra pointed out, concerned for their wellbeing.
“That pig Fafnir would never dare openly move against so many innocent people. They all know it too, I think in a lot of ways this protest was a long time in coming.” Jayne reasoned.
“Best tell them to stay safe and keep it peaceful.” Cassandra advised, absently rubbing her palm up and down the rusty cell bars.
“No doubt the magistrate will try to lure them into violence.” John added, moving closer to the pair.
“What else is there, surely the two of you did not stay behind to tell me about the protest?” Cassandra asked, sensing there was more.
Jayne silently motioned to John, signaling him to check the gate and make sure the guard was not nearby. Once he nodded, keeping watch so she could speak, Jayne moved in closer to the cell and began to explain in low whispers.
“John has a plan to help get you out of here.” She explained. “You see, he overheard his uncle talking to one of Fafnir’s henchmen. It seems Fafnir ordered the execution on Mr. Beauford because he was trying to get some documents off the goodly gnome.” This was a startling revelation indeed.
“That’s all well and good but there is no way to prove its truth. John’s uncle is not likely to step forth and Fafnir’s man is even less likely. Besides all that amounts to is hearsay.” Cassandra replied, doubtful that they could use this to their advantage.
“Wait there’s more. It appears the assassin Fafnir sent ran off with the loot and documents to Malbec. He was drunkenly bragging about it at the Lion’s Tooth Tavern and Fafnir is sending men to kill him. John and I are going to intercept them and warn the Constable who is holding the vagrant. We should be able to get those documents; he has already agreed to hand them over, at a price of course.” Jayne explained elated at their turn of luck.
“With those in hand, not only will we prove Fafnir has become a corrupt scum sucker, but also that Riverbell is completely innocent of the accusations he has been spreading around the aristocracy.” Cassandra reasoned just as excitedly, they had the magistrate right where they wanted him.
“And Arch Councilor Zacharia will see through these weak charges set against you, he might even commend you for helping the hero Corbin Walker bring an innocent citizen back to Fal!” Jayne clapped her hands together at the prospect. John spun his finger, signaling the guard was back.
“John, you must both get to Malbec with due haste.” Cassandra implored of the man.
“We are leaving as soon as we walk out of the building milady. Rest assured I’ll be sure Jayne will get what she needs.” he bowed to Lady Cassandra, who noticed Jayne was slightly blushing at his new chivalrous behavior.
“Be safe my dear girl, and may the light of the Crystal guide you.” Cassandra bid her pupil farewell. Things had certainly shifted in their favor!
“Maybe I do not need to contact Corbin after all,” she thought, rolling an egg-sized Onyx in her palm.
In the street, the magistrate watched the last two visitors exit the building from the window of his carriage. His lip curled at the thought of the sanctimonious little bastards plotting against him. Outside section six close to forty men and women had gathered, shouting for Lady Cassandra’s release. His men had asked if he wanted the protesters arrested, but he scoffed. “No let the little street urchins have their moment in the light.” Then paused to add “But do record all their names, so we can keep an eye on them after this is all through.”
Fafnir put on a brave front for his men, but the old man had to admit this turn of events was bothersome. He had not anticipated the outpouring of support Lady Cassandra incited. This would not be good for his plans; Zacharia would be displeased to hear of his people’s unhappiness. If he caught wind of the protest the Arch Councilor was sure to follow the will of the people, the old goat was getting soft. You did not bend over for this rabble of commoners. They were nothing but lower level trash. If Fafnir were the high elder, he would make an example of the entire lot, crushing them beneath his heel, and who among them would dare to step out of line after that.
His guest had arrived, rapping lightly on the other side of the carriage. Fafnir bid her enter, and she slipped in, hood hanging low to hide her face.
“Oooh, how provincial of you.” He teased, over her weak disguise. “What do you have to report?”
“Everything has been taken care of, milord, you were right she was easy to ploy.” The woman said.
“That is always the way of country bumpkins, too stupid to get out of their own way. It’s no wonder Elder Morgana went to live with them.” Fafnir held no love for the farmers of Riverbell, considering them just more fodder for his future plans.
“You have done well, if you deliver as agreed the trade rights of Riverbell will be yours to own.” He promised, feeling a little better knowing at least this part of his plan had not fallen through.
The woman bowed then slipped out of the compartment back into the street, leaving him to brood in private. Looking back outside at the rabble causing a commotion, Fafnir co
uld not help worrying that it was not enough…. not nearly enough to overcome the support Lady Cassandra was gathering. Maybe he had made a mistake involving her, perhaps he had pushed the scales too far in the wrong direction… Scowling, he called for his guard.
“Yes Magistrate?” the man dutifully asked.
“I changed my mind. Get some men together in plain clothes, no uniforms, and go hurt a couple of those dogs.” He ordered, cruelly pointing a crooked finger at the protesters.
Chapter 18
Corbin needed to figure out a way into the amazing town below. He had spent some time during the late hours wondering about the place. Everything else outside of New Fal was supposed to be a wild and untamed dangerous expanse that could not support civilization. Yet, here was a thriving trade port despite those claims and the place was anything but wild, clearly shipping goods in both directions on the green foamy river below. It was a complete contradiction to what he knew about the world.
After the initial shock from the revelation had worn off, Corbin scouted the area to find some way to slip inside undetected. The entrance was far too exposed for him to show up at the gates, his presence would be announced like a gunshot. Logan would have too much warning if that happened, and he was not certain the gnomes would be welcoming toward him anyhow, considering his brother was traveling with one of their people. The layout of this town was impressive, the only way in was through a tunnel carved under the hill below, which was guarded by five heavily armored gnomes.
Circling the outskirts of the settlement, there was literally no other accessible point of entry, being that the place was virtually surrounded by the solid walls of the very hillside itself and climbing them would leave him exposed to the dutiful guards.
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