Shadow Sun Rebellion

by Dave Willmarth

  Allistor nodded. “I’ve been taking in strays like Michael over there since day one. No reason to stop now.” Michael flipped him the bird. “Harmon, Gralen. Let’s arrange a meeting with L’olwyn. And… is there another you would recommend?”

  Gralen replied, “All three of the remaining candidates are qualified. I don’t know any of them personally, but I’m sure they are more than competent enough to serve your current needs, or I would not have presented them as candidates.”

  Harmon pointed to the one in the middle of the remaining three.

  “This one would be my second choice. The dwarf. Beyond being a good analyst, he can advise you in the craft I’ve been hearing you bang away at all week.” The orcanin grinned at Allistor.

  “Oh, man. Am I making that much noise?” Allistor felt bad.

  “No, no… I’m teasing. I get reports on what you’re doing up there. My warriors are intrigued. They’ve never heard of a Planetary Prince doing his own smithing before.”

  Meg snorted. “Don’t tell him stuff like that. He’ll get too big for his britches.”

  Harmon chuckled. “I doubt there’s any danger in that. In any case, I recommend you hire at least two, and if you’re willing to make the investment, all four of them would be useful. You’ve garnered a lot of attention, and I have a feeling you’re just getting started. Keeping track of all your friends and enemies is going to be quite the challenge.”

  Allistor looked at Chris, who just laughed. “You couldn’t spend all your money in the next decade, short of buying yourself a fleet of ships. Or a small moon.”

  “Two small moons.” Harmon corrected, winking at Chris.

  Allistor checked each face around the table, and each of them gave him a nod. “Gralen, please message all four of them, ask them to come and meet me. We’ll pay for their passage if necessary, or you can take your ship to retrieve them. Take along some gold for expenses.”

  As Gralen saluted, Harmon made a suggestion. “Allistor, you know all of those weapons you’ve been working on all week? You might consider giving Gralen a few of those to sell.”

  “What? They’re mostly junk. Badly formed with little or no stats.”

  “Ah, but they have two very important qualities. First, they were created by the first and only Prince of Earth, so far. As I pointed out earlier, Princes are never seen performing manual tasks like crafting weapons. And second, I can see by your sword that you have already progressed beyond making ‘junk’, as you put it, which makes them a rare and limited group of items. What are there… a hundred? Less? They will make conversation pieces, at the very least. Some will be purchased by nobles who wish to mock you and your crude skills. The fact that you lower yourself to menial tasks. But what do you care? Let them underestimate you.”

  Gralen added, “And let them pay a lot of money for the privilege!”

  “Heh. Okay, sure. How many do you want? They’re all just sort of piled up on the roof. Help yourself. Do you need me to etch my signature in them or something?”

  “No, never do that. There are any number of unscrupulous individuals out there who would use it to forge documents. In fact, Gralen you should wipe down each weapon, remove any fingerprints or trace of DNA to prevent fraud or cloning. We can set up a proper display of the weapons, take a holo of Allistor working on something in the foreground. That will be sufficient.” Harmon turned to address Allistor, his face suddenly serious.

  “From this point on, you should avoid physical contact with anyone, outside of your own people, of course. A drop of your sweat, a flake of your skin, could be used to create a clone. Once a faction has cloned you, it would be relatively easy to kidnap and replace you.”

  “What? Are you shitting me? That’s… that Frank Herbert kinda crap right there. Next you’re gonna have me sticking my hand in a pain box.”

  “I have no idea what that means, but listen carefully. When you host dignitaries, do not shake their hands. Nobles and those with training already know what I’m telling you now. A simple bow, or in your case probably a head nod, will suffice. Do not accept food or drink from anyone if you are visiting another court. Poisoning is a common practice among the nobles. In fact, until you have reached a more… robust level, I suggest not making any diplomatic trips at all.”

  “I invited an elven commander for dinner, so that he wouldn’t blow us out of the sky.” Allistor mumbled.

  Harmon laughed loudly, causing the whole conference table to vibrate. “So I have heard. He contacted me to inquire whether you were an actual fool, or had just deceived him. I told him both!”

  Allistor couldn’t help but laugh along with his friend. “Thanks, I think.”

  “Don’t worry, I will coach you on proper etiquette and safety measures before this dinner happens. From our short interaction, it seemed to me he would be several weeks getting his new colony in order.”

  *****

  Allistor spent another two days crafting and being pummeled by his squire. William had picked up two points in Strength over the week, giving him a three. He’d also raised his Stamina and Agility a point. Allistor dutifully paid him his one hundred dollar salary, as agreed upon back at the Santa Barbara airport when they met, then arranged for his quest to pay some decent klax as well, because the boy’s efforts raised his Barrier level three times.

  He was just finishing up on crafting a spear for himself when Nigel informed him that Gralen was returning with the four candidates. The mercenary ship and the elf’s private ship were landing at the Bastion and they would be teleporting in shortly.

  He took a quick look at his new weapon as he walked to the elevator.

  The Interruptor

  Item Quality: Uncommon

  Damage: 900 Piercing; 700 Slashing; 500 Bashing

  Attributes: Sharpness +2, Armor Piercing +3

  Enchantments: Restraint, Mind Spike, Erupt

  This weapon has been imbued with three different spells in three crystals embedded within the shaft. User can store mana in each crystal, sufficient for them to hold up to two charges of their imbued spell.

  “Alright, so it’s probably still just a mediocre weapon. But I’m gonna use it until I can make one a whole lot better!” he mumbled to himself.

  Getting in the elevator with William right behind him, he looked down at his squire. “We’re done for today, bud. Nigel will take you down to Amanda, and she’ll get you some lunch. Tell Meg I said you worked extra hard today, and squires should eat steak!” He held up a fist for a grinning William to bump. Since his days of deprivation living at the airport, the kid had a passion for food that far exceeded the levels of a normal growing boy.

  Several times now, Allistor had used him as an excuse to go back and get a second helping himself. Amanda pretended to be angry, but he’d caught her smiling more than once.

  Stepping off the elevator at his quarters, he jumped into the shower and put on his full leather armor set. He’d chosen that route because he didn’t really own a fancy suit. Yet. Lilly had measured him to within an inch of his life, and there were apparently proper suits in the making, as well as dresses for Amanda, and proper ministerial garb for the others.

  He was just stepping out of his sleeping quarters when Nigel informed him that Gralen, Harmon, Helen, Chris, and the candidates were waiting on the conference level. The elevator was waiting for him, and dropped him off just a few seconds later. Gralen snapped to attention and saluted the moment he spotted Allistor.

  “Prince Allistor, I have retrieved the candidates as ordered. They await your pleasure.”

  Allistor did his best to appear formal and… royal. He kept his posture straight and his face impassive. “Very good, Captain Gralen. Give me a moment to confer with my advisors, then send in the first.” Allistor kept walking, nodding politely at the group of four aliens sitting in lounge chairs to one side.

  Taking a seat at the head of the table in one of the smaller conference rooms, he grinned at Harmon and the others. “So, do I act
all princely and stuck-up? Or just be myself?”

  “Oh, no. Don’t be yourself. In fact, try to never ever be yourself around other people.” Helen teased.

  Harmon barked a laugh. “I would be yourself, just a little more… reserved. Keep in mind that as you are evaluating them, they are evaluating you. These are proud people with valuable skills. They will not want to work for a fool, nor a tyrant.”

  “Got it. Somewhere between fool and tyrant. Here comes the first one.” Allistor sat forward, resting his elbows on the table, hands clasped and back straight. Gralen led in the first candidate, the elf, L’olwyn.

  “Greetings, L’olwyn, and welcome to Invictus. I am Prince Allistor.” Allistor waited as the elf bowed at the waist. “I am honored to have been invited, Prince Allistor. Thank you.”

  Allistor gave his best royal nod in return. “Please, take a seat, and help yourself to the refreshments.” His wave encompassed both a chair and the tray in the center of the table that featured a pitcher of water, several glasses, and some assorted pastries that Meg had baked for the occasion. “We are rather… informal here.” Allistor sat down, allowing the others to sit as well.

  The graceful elf took the indicated chair, declining the refreshments. He folded his hands in his lap, and looked expectantly at Allistor.

  “Yes, well! I’m sure Gralen has given you some background on me, and still you agreed to this meeting, so we’re off to a good start!” Allistor tried to ignore the looks Helen and Harmon gave him. L’olwyn’s facial expression didn’t change. But Allistor was learning to expect that from elves.

  “I’m told that a significant number of factions have taken notice of me, in one way or another. And being brand new to this part of the galaxy, I freely admit that I have no experience with the entire reputation system. I don’t know the players, or the game. Does that worry you?”

  Allistor thought he saw a slight tug at the corner of the elf’s mouth. “I… appreciate your honesty, Prince Allistor. And yes, I was aware of your lack of experience before making the journey here. With your planet newly assimilated from the outer reaches, there is no way it could be otherwise. And no, I am undaunted by the enormity of the task ahead.”

  Allistor decided to take all of that in a positive light, rather than a backhanded insult.

  “Good! Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask a few questions about your background. I understand that your House and Faction were destroyed. I offer you my deepest sympathy. I too know what it’s like to have your family taken from you.” He paused as the elf bowed his head in acknowledgement. “What I would like to know, and please forgive me if this question is improper, is why other Houses have not snatched you up?”

  L’olwyn immediately looked uncomfortable. His hands shifted slightly in his lap, and his eyes darted to Harmon and Gralen. After a moment, he sighed, and began to speak. “That is an unusually direct and borderline insensitive question, Prince Allistor. But under the circumstances, I will respond. I am of Noble Blood. My grandsire was second cousin to the Patriarch of our House. The grandson of our Patriarch, a young elf whose name I shall not utter, was the cause of our downfall. He was betrothed to a Princess, the daughter of a Planetary Prince much like yourself, who was also the Patriarch of a powerful House. While visiting his future bride, the fool became inebriated and… assaulted his intended. This is a grave crime among Nobles, and most especially among elves. I was away on a diplomatic mission when the Princess’s House, along with all of the allied Houses of their Faction, retaliated.”

  He paused, taking in a ragged breath, emotion clouding his face. “I was informed by the system that I had become the Patriarch of a fallen House, and knew that something had gone terribly wrong. When I returned to my home, I found that it, along with the continent it had rested on, no longer existed. I and my crew were the last living members of my House. A short time later I was informed of the nature of my cousin’s crime, and the shame that had fallen upon my House. That shame, that stigma, is the reason no allied house attempted to defend my own, and why none of them will employ me.”

  L’olwyn lowered his gaze, staring at his hands.

  Allistor glanced at Harmon, whose face was stony and unreadable. Orcanin society was based on their sense of honor. Gralen, on the other hand, looked slightly shaken. His gaze was fixed on the elf, and he looked… concerned.

  Allistor cleared his throat. “Thank you, L’olwyn. That could not have been easy to share. I want you to know that I consider you untainted by your cousin’s misdeeds. Should we discover that we get along well here today, your House’s past will carry no weight with me.”

  The elf’s head snapped upward, his gaze locking on Allistor’s. “Truly?”

  “It seems to me you have already paid a heavy price for the actions of another. We humans are not as… rigid as the elves when it comes to honor, I suppose.”

  The elf straightened up, his shoulders pushed back as if a great weight had been lifted from him. “It seems to me you have a strong sense of honor, in your own way, Prince Allistor.”

  The interview continued for another few minutes, then Allistor asked Gralen to escort the elf back to the waiting area and bring in the next candidate.

  That was the dwarf.

  Gralen barely had the door open when a four-foot tall force of nature stomped into the room. He walked up to where Allistor had just risen to his feet, and bowed so low that his back was perfectly horizontal, and his beard nearly touched the floor. He held the pose until Allistor spoke.

  “Greetings, Longbeard. And welcome to Invictus.” Allistor nodded his head.

  “That be Master Longbeard, Prince Allistor. Took me nearly a hunnert years ta earn the title, and I’d appreciate it if ye would use it!” the dwarf’s deep voice resonated through the room.

  “Master Longbeard. Of course. Please… take a seat and help yourself to the refreshments. Our best chef prepared the pastries herself.”

  The dwarf hopped up into the indicated chair and leaned across the table, pouring himself some water and piling several pastries on a plate. Once he was settled, Allistor began.

  “I apologize for not using your title, Master Longbeard. May I ask what you are a Master of?”

  Longbeard had popped a small cheesecake bite into his mouth as Allistor spoke. He took a moment to finish chewing and swallow. “That were right tasty! Me compliments to the lass that baked it, Prince Allistor. I am a Master Armorer. And I heard a rumor just before we departed to come here that ye like to work the forge ‘n’ anvil?”

  Allistor grinned at the likeable dwarf. “I do indeed. One of the first skills I learned after the apocalypse was Weaponsmithing. Followed quickly by Improvisation. Unfortunately, I spent most of the last year fighting for my life and the lives of my people, and did not have a lot of time for crafting. Now that things have calmed a bit, I am working to improve my skills.”

  “Well, I dinna believe it!” Longbeard slapped his thigh. “Yer Captain Gralen was sellin’ off rough pieces he claimed were crafted by yerself. Clever strategy, that.”

  Allistor laughed. “I have Harmon to thank for that. It was his idea.”

  “Aye, it’s good to have friends, that be a fact.” Longbeard gave the orcanin a respectful nod. “Especially friends o’ his caliber. Speaks well of ye that he’s sittin’ here.”

  Now it was Harmon’s turn to nod. “Very kind of you, Master Longbeard.”

  Allistor paused for a moment while the dwarf downed another pastry, then took a long drink of water. “As I told the previous candidate, I have almost no experience in dealing with factions, or non-human races. The first time I met an elf, he nearly shot us out of the sky. My dealings with Harmon here being the most positive possible, I think. I do consider him a good friend. So, knowing that I’m completely unpracticed in the political game of factions and planetary politics, would you still be willing to assist me?”

  “Bah! No way ye could know more than the tiniest bit, bein’ who ye are and wher
e yer from!” Longbeard leaned forward. “I can teach ye. Advise ye on how ta act, who ta trust, or not. I’ll admit I’ve been observin’ ya on and off the last few months. Ye been big news in certain circles. I see potential in ye, Prince Allistor. And I see a kindred spirit.” The dwarf paused, then smiled to himself. “And I won a few substantial wagers bettin’ on ya!”

  “Ha!” Allistor thumped the table as the others laughed with the dwarf. “I think I like you already, Master Longbeard.”

  And so the interview went. Four hours later, Allistor had hired the elf, the dwarf, an elderly gnome woman named Selby, and Droban the minotaur. The negotiations had not been long or difficult, and both sides seemed happy with each agreement.

  Chapter 20

  The following day Allistor decided to join the raid that was descending into the subway tunnels. After a difficult five minutes explaining to William that he could not come along, he met up with the raid group outside the tower lobby.

  The plan was to take on a large group of octopoids that had congregated down a maintenance track that branched off of one of the main track tunnels. One of the smaller raid parties had identified at least twenty of the monsters, having stumbled upon them while the octopoids massacred a bunch of large vermin scouts. Which, of course, meant there was a vermin nest somewhere thereabouts as well.

  As the monsters were no longer spawning, the food supply in places like this would be dwindling. The monsters were ranging farther out from their homes in search of food, fighting and eating each other when one group encountered another. Or just cannibalizing their own. The result was that a few of the monsters had reached high levels.

  Twenty-five human raiders, along with Fuzzy and Prime, descended the stairs into the subway station. They’d chosen the Broad Street station, just a block or so south of the tower, right outside Harmon’s building. It was close to a wide, open intersection where they could see any creatures coming in time to defend themselves.