“What’s written on his chest?” I asked the leader.
“There written ‘Don’t forget native totem.’”
“And on his back?”
“You only know cost of freedom after losing it,” he translated.
That’s some heavy stuff right there.
The leader conversed with the shaman, who nodded, leaned toward the tent, and called to someone.
Out walked the shaggy head of a fairly young drogter. The two elders started explaining something to him, to which he nodded and shook his lip.
“Okay, Light one,” the leader said to me. “I now take your to crooked passages, so nobody kill and eat you on road, then this young one, Khritt’s student, takes your through crooked passages.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “Are any of yours in the crooked passages? They won’t kill me or eat me there, will they?”
“There only shaman walks, and those with shaman,” the leader explained. “And not every shaman. Khritt can, his student can, Gfarrt and his student can, but they gone to see Master.”
“Got it. Then let’s go.” I was sick and tired of the looks I was getting from all the drogters. It was like I was standing there, a carcass already slaughtered and ready to be roasted. I figured that’s how we look at shashlik right before it’s ready—already crispy, but with the inside of the meat still pink.
The shaman’s student stepped out of the tent wearing a skin and holding a club.
“What about a tambourine and all that?” I asked, surprised. “He’s a shaman, isn’t he?”
“He not need anything, he be fine,” the leader yawned. “Good shamans does what he wants, even student can do all things—become legend after a couple months, so everyone loves, fears, respects him.”
“Wow,” I said, kind of impressed. “I can’t do that… Here I am running around like a chicken with my head cut off, and I’m not high-level, I don’t have bags of gold, the people don’t love me, I don’t have a trump clan—nothing. I should have been a shaman…”
The crooked passages started outside the city. We walked out of a different gate than the one we’d walked in through, this one being simpler and plainer. Compared to the imposing main entrance, this one was practically a wicket gate. The drogters obviously didn’t expect a threat from the direction we were walking in, as an enormous abyss opened out twenty steps away from us. I couldn’t see the bottom; just some whispy tendrils of smoke.
“Wow,” I said, taking a few nervous strides backwards. “A digital abyss!”
“An abysmal abyss,” the leader contradicted, a bit tautologically. “We throw criminals here, and trash, too.”
“Got it,” I said with a nod, this time edging slightly forward to glance down into the intimidating nothingness. Then, just for the heck of it, I spat into the void. It’s just what you do…
“O-oh,” the leader said as he pretended to shove me. “Scary?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Very.”
“No, not very,” he said, this time serious. “But if your come again here, then very—the Eye of Master tell you, and I tell you. If your come again, don’t wear pants. I eat you myself, before that I give you to children as target. They throw axe bad, need practice, and they throw axe at you. Soon you dead, but our spirit live. Drogter leader Ulyan-Le say, ‘Learn, learn, learn again, and then you eat much and kill all.’ When they kill you, you go on my menu.”
“That’s terrifying,” I told him earnestly. “But you didn’t have to warn me—I won’t be coming back here ever again.”
“Good, good,” the leader praised me. “Then bye!”
“Wait,” I said, “can I ask you a question?”
“Your very curious,” he replied, squinting at me. “What your want to know?”
“What was that empty city we ran past when you were taking me to see the Eye? It looked like dwarves built it.”
The leader faltered and looked away.
“Drogter is brave warrior, though we not going to that city without need. If we go, then quickly-quickly. There a great fear lives. Dwarves left, and drow not go there.”
“What do you mean?” I was intrigued.
“You stupid!” The leader threw up his arms. “If you stay there long, you never leave. Even Master tell us that we have problems when we stay there long. He go there only one time. When he come back, he say something unclear.”
“What did he say?”
He thought for a second about whether to tell me or not, though he eventually gave in.
“Master say, ‘Bastard developer, think up such nightmare.’ I not understand what developer is…”
He waved and headed back to the gate.
I stood there for a second, watching him go and thinking about what he said. That’s an interesting master he has there—very interesting. I decided to think about it more when I had time, as we needed to leave.
“Do you speak our language?” I asked the shaman’s student.
“Little-little,” he replied. “Don’t worry.”
He went over to the stone wall one side of the gate was built into and whispered something. I blinked, blinked again, and rubbed my eyes—an entrance, narrow and dark, but still an entrance, had opened up.
“Whoa!” I exhaled.
“Go quick,” the shaman’s student said, gesturing for me to follow. “Little time!”
I stepped into the opening and found myself in a very narrow, dark, and tight passage.
“Crooked passages,” he said with a grin. “Soon we be with yours.”
It only took us about twenty minutes, though in the space of that twenty minutes I banged my head on the ceiling a few times—to the great amusement of my guide. By the end, I started to get worried. Are we ever getting out of these rat holes?
Right then a light blazed out.
“Lake of the Light ones,” the student said, his voice overflowing with hate and disgust. “Ah-h! I leaving.”
“Wait,” I replied. “Thank you, drogter.”
“Eh, okay,” he said with a wave. He stepped into the cliff, and the opening disappeared right in front of me.
Twenty minutes. It had taken me just twenty minutes to cross a distance that normally took several hours. That was intriguing, though I certainly wasn’t going back. I wasn’t a fan of getting mutilated and eaten…
Whoa, this is beautiful!
The drogters’ crooked passages had dumped me out on a tall cliff. In front of me was a fantastic view of the Crystal Lake, the city on its banks, and the rest of the surroundings.
The first thing I realized was that the grotto was enormous. It was so big, in fact, that it comfortably housed what was a good-sized lake and a well-populated city named Tigenluk—at least, that’s what I got from the city’s backstory that popped up briefly in front of me. It turned out to be an important port city that supplied everyone living in the Sumaki Mountains with living essentials, the flour that was in critical supply, and spices, not to mention some weapons. That was apparently what the steamboat I’d been hired to protect was bringing. On the return trip, it carried rare earth metals, precious stones, semi-precious stones, and other products from mines famed throughout Fayroll.
Right there in the Sumaki Mountains was Fayroll’s most well-known spot for penal servitude, one feared by crooks and bandits the continent over. Getting sent there was a death sentence, a fact everyone knew and nobody wanted to test. Although, to be fair, I got the feeling that drogter shaman had survived the mines…
A narrow path led down from the cliff, and I started down it with incredible care—in some places, the only way down was to smash your whole body against the cliff, and in others you had to get down on all fours just to make sure you didn’t lose your balance. Dying there would have been ridiculous. After everything I’ve been through today? Anyway, an hour or so later I was walking up to the Tigenluk gate.
“Halt, traveler,” a guard ordered as I found my way blocked by a spear. “Where did you come from?”
&nb
sp; “That way.” I pointed toward the cliffs. “I was walking in the mountains.”
“There aren’t any roads up there,” the hollow voice in the helmet replied. “There’s nothing up there except creatures of the night, and you didn’t leave the city today.”
Wow, aren’t we attentive? What do I do now?
“It happens,” I said as blithely as I could. “So what now? You aren’t going to let me into the city?”
“Wait here for the city mage so he can make sure you aren’t one of the fiends of darkness that live deep in the mountains,” he said a bit pretentiously before ringing a small bell.
I tensed up a little. With the number of marks on me from God-only-knows-who, it was anybody’s guess what the mage would say. All he had to do was find the “Master’s mark,” and I’d have no way of proving that I had nothing to do with all the political games in Rattermark…
The mage turned out to be a hulking, black-bearded, and middle-aged gentleman.
“Who?” he asked the guard lazily, the latter jabbing a finger in my direction.
The mage walked over and winked.
“Well, my good man, shall we see how much of the shadow you have in your soul?” He asked, his tone jolly and optimistic, as he pulled a silver knife out of its scabbard. Two more guards walked out of the guardhouse, though they had bows they strung arrows on immediately. It looked like their arrows were tipped with silver.
“What’s all that for?” I asked, squinting at him.
“Well, if you, a stranger, are something besides human, we’ll kill you on the spot,” the mage explained cheerfully. “If not, you’ll pay the toll and be welcome to head into Tigenluk.”
Those were quite the prospects. The only good thing was that I could port back there for my things if I needed to.
The mage waved his dagger and chanted some kind of spell. A ball of fire sprang from the blade and engulfed me, changing color slightly but still remaining a mostly golden red.
“Everything’s fine. He’s been in contact with dark magic recently, but it was probably just a trap he tripped,” the mage announced, nodding to me and heading back home.
“Welcome to Tigenluk,” the guard said. “The entry fee is one piece of gold.”
I paid him the money and walked into the city, mentally mopping my brow as I did—that was a lucky break. What a life, I thought ruefully as I linked to the headstone. Everyone was trying to bring me over to the dark side, kick my butt, and keep me out of the city…
Walking slowly down the street, I stepped out into the central square, which was home to a decent-sized market—not too big, not too small. It was the same as anywhere else: vendors were selling mediocre weapons and equipment, the few players there were trying to pawn junk off on each other, and everyone was yelling amiably.
I visited the blacksmith, winced at the amount I had to pay him to repair my equipment, wandered through the rows of stalls for a while, and happened to see two signs hanging in an alley leading away from the square. Both of them were very familiar.
Deciding to visit the second one a little later, I pushed open the wicket gate leading to a small courtyard.
“Who are you looking for, good human?” an elderly, slightly rasping voice asked.
“You, I think,” I replied politely to the little old man sitting on a bench near the small house. “If you’re the instructor, of course. If not, could you tell me how to find him?”
“What’s to find? I’m right here,” he said briskly. “I’m Battlemaster Grod; who are you?”
“I am Thane Hagen of the Western Reaches,” I replied. “Can I learn something from you?”
“A thane?” the old man replied, stretching out the word. “Aren’t you a bit young to be a thane?”
“Well, there weren’t any age requirements when Queen Anna gave me the title,” I replied with my eyes lowered.
Either the old man was convinced or he didn’t much care—one way or another, he rubbed his dry hands together.
“Well, then, Thane, you can learn two abilities from me, though it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Great, here we go again.
And that’s how it happened. The quirky old guy offered me two choices: one active ability that he said was incredibly powerful or two passive abilities, the latter being solid options, but nothing out of this world. He then told me I could have one middling active ability on the house.
I thought for a while and decided that I already had more than enough active abilities, and that a super-ability like the one he was talking about would chew through my modest supply of mana. On the other hand, passive abilities are always there for you.
Judging by his drooping face, I didn’t make the right choice. He took five hundred gold from me, quickly said his farewell, and rushed me out the door.
Once I’d gotten a little ways away, I stopped to see what he’d given me.
You learned a new active ability: Deft Step, Level 1
When you use this ability, your opponent has a 50% chance of thinking you’re moving to your right, and he will attack in that direction. You can use that opportunity to make your own attack.
Activation cost: 200 mana
Recharge time: 2 minutes
I couldn’t tell why the old man had been so down on the ability—a 50% chance of disorienting your opponent wasn’t bad at all. I might even switch out one of my abilities for that. And if it was so good, I had to wonder if I’d made a mistake passing up on the super-ability.
You learned a new passive ability: Iron Fist, Level 1
You do 20% more damage in hand-to-hand combat.
That one wasn’t bad either. I hadn’t had the need to fight with my fists, but it was something nice to have in my back pocket. You never know what you might end up needing. No rules, kumite,[9] and all that.
You learned a new passive ability: Master of Threats, Level 1
You are 35% more capable of scaring the people you’re talking with.
Don’t forget that fear often keeps people from giving you information, sometimes even forcing them to take up weapons against you.
And yet another interesting ability. I figured I could get that 35% number up to a good 60% if I could find an electric iron or a soldering gun in the game.
You completed a quest: Down the Underground Stream.
You were able to protect the Great Underground when it was attacked, getting it safely to the Crystal Lake.
Reward:
1500 experience
To get the rest of your reward, talk to the ship’s captain or head of security.
Just then I heard the blast of a familiar horn. Oh, they ended up making it? Excellent. I walked briskly toward the wharf, which sounded like it wasn’t far from the market at all.
The wharf was large and well-built, clearly one of the city’s important features. A crowd mingled around it, both NPCs and players, everyone watching the steamboat proudly steaming closer.
People waved hands and hats, shouted, and excitedly chattered with each other as they watched the rare event…wait a second. On either side of the wharf were some players who weren’t doing much talking. They were waiting silently for the steamboat to dock. Shivers ran up and down my spine. Sure, they might not have been waiting for me, but what goods could five Double Shields and the same number of Fortune’s Favorites be hoping to get from the Great Underground’s holds? It was too much of a coincidence that they were all there waiting patiently for the boat.
I took a few steps backward to fade into the street, and leaned up against a building. Who am I kidding? They’re obviously here for me, and that can’t be good. The Shields’ interest in me might have made sense somehow, though I was supposed to go visit them of my own free will the next Monday. Let’s say they decided I needed a bodyguard, however bizarre that would be. What about the Favorites? There really wasn’t any reason for them to be there. Okay, so maybe there’s something in it for them, somehow.
Whatever the case, I
decided I didn’t need that fifteen hundred gold after all, even if I had earned them with my blood and…mm…dignity. It just wasn’t worth it. Plus, I would have had to explain to Max how it happened that I fell overboard somewhere upstream, and somehow got to the city before them. Given the local prejudices, I was afraid that would just get me thrown into the jailhouse for an exorcism or maybe burned at the stake.
Ultimately, I’d gotten lucky. Both of the groups had apparently been hanging around the wharf, so I hadn’t come across them in the city. I decided to consider that a sign and avoid tempting fate any further. I’m just going to forget the whole thing and go talk to some old friends, see what they can tell me about that hermit in particular and the lay of the land in general. And then I’m going to get as far away from this town as I can.
I turned on my heel and headed toward the Tearful Goddess Order mission, which was across from the instructor’s house.
Chapter Eighteen
In which things happen inside and out.
I walked quickly across the market square and headed for the small mansion, above which hung the symbol of the order: a circle with something inside it that was apparently a tear shed by the goddess I didn’t know anything about. I was already pretty familiar with the local pantheon, though nobody had yet said a word to me about her. Even if just to round things off, I needed to figure out how she got along with the goddess I was working for. Just in case…
Sicilian Defense Page 23