by Hugo Huesca
“Well,” Ed said with a shrug, “while we return to the Haunt to arm ourselves—” he pointed at the bag of silver dust he carried on his belt “—Katalyn’s going to recruit the Guild to look for Brondan, just in case Kermich—Karmich—and my spiderling never encountered him. After we know where he’s hiding, we strike at him and Nicolai fast and hard… then we deal with the wraith on our own terms.” He scratched his chin as he repeated the plan he and Katalyn had worked over that morning. He didn’t like it much. It hinged on the hope that Nicolai would remain put while they looked for him, and now that Brondan knew Ed was in town… On the other hand, what else can we do? That was why he was so anxious to return to the Haunt. Not only did he need to arm himself and his friends, he needed to make sure everyone was safe.
While he spoke with Alder, Kes had returned from her watch, seemingly satisfied that the coast was clear. She snorted at hearing Ed’s words. “Your mental attributes are high enough for you to know that wasn’t at all what Alder was asking.” She nodded toward the Bard, who was in the process of rolling his eyes at Ed.
“He knows what I meant,” Alder said.
“Not really thought about it much,” Ed lied. “Who knows? She seems like a great gal. If she wanted—”
Kes patted him on his back with a gloved hand on her way down the tunnel. “You poor, hopeless fool.” She continued laughing to herself until her silhouette disappeared into the darkness.
Ed crossed his arms and frowned. “What the hell was that about?”
Alder showed him his open palms as he followed Kes. “Let’s see. A Witch, now a Thief, neither of them exactly what a sane man would call great gals—”
“That’s really not fair to either of them—”
“Don’t look at me, I’m not sane either,” Alder said. He still had bits of green goo stuck to his blond hair. “In my case, though, I’m a Bard, so it comes with the job description. Anyway, I’m sensing a pattern here, Ed.” He shrugged. “At this rate, you’ll fall in love with a Dungeon Lady, or a vampire… probably a Dungeon Lady vampire… and you’ll insist she’s a great gal, even as the world burns around you.” The Bard chuckled and went inside the tunnel. “Keep going, though!” he called from the darkness. “A doomed romance will add so much spice when I tell the story.”
Ed was left alone, arms crossed, and feeling vaguely indignant. “Vampires? Now that’s just silly.” A corpse was a corpse, no matter how much glitter you sparked over it.
He followed his friends out of Undercity.
SOMEONE SCREAMED at her down the street. Katalyn’s nerves, which were on edge, almost made her jump and screech in surprise like a little girl. She composed herself at the last second and turned around.
“There you are!” Pris hollered. She was alone, hiding her leather armor underneath a pretty pink cape and a suede jacket that had probably belonged to some rich merchant’s daughter. “I’ve been looking for you all morning!”
Katalyn grinned sourly and pressed a hand to her forehead. She was still a bit sleep deprived from last night, and Pris’ screaming wasn’t helping her headache. “Pris, what are you doing outside?”
It was a bad day for Thieves to be out in the open. The Watch was nervous, and patrols were out in full force through the streets of Undercity, their red capes progressively getting dirtier as they marched across the muddied streets.
“I heard about how Brondan betrayed the Guild,” Pris said earnestly. She offered Katalyn an apologetic smile. “Turns out he was the one embezzling funds from us. Sorry for doubting you… I reckon I acted like an asshole.”
“Yes,” Katalyn said with a frown. “You did.” Then she snorted and patted her friend on the back. “But I forgive you. You could’ve thrown me out to the dogs the other day in the Folly, and you didn’t. As far as I’m concerned, we’re square.”
And like that, the tension between them was gone.
“You’re too nice, Kat,” Pris told her. “I promise I won’t jump to conclusions next time someone accuses you of stealing from the Guild.”
“Excellent,” said Katalyn with exaggerated pleasure. “Just as planned. Next time, I’ll steal from them for real, and everyone will think I’m innocent again!”
Pris barked a laugh and smacked her on the shoulder.
The two Thieves walked down the street. It was a bright day with few clouds to be seen in the horizon, which was a nice break from the norm. The sunlight mixed with the cold breeze to create a pleasing mixture, almost beatific. It was the kind of day that gave Katalyn the impression that nothing could go wrong, that life was beautiful, and that every problem would solve itself in the end.
There was a zombie shambling a couple hundred feet away. The small crowd that surrounded it gave the creature ample berth. It had been a woman when it was alive—probably a whore that had frozen to death the previous night. It was missing most fingers from its feet, which were black and rotten.
“Ugh,” said Pris as they neared the monster. “For all the Watch’s posturing, the undead plague is heavier today than during the storms.”
An enterprising young boy, not older than thirteen, snuck his way behind the zombie and struck its legs with a wooden mace. The creature howled and crashed to the ground, rotting meat mixing with wet mud, specks of it flying everywhere as it flailed. The boy crushed in its skull seconds after, to the delight of the crowd. A couple of his friends rushed him to celebrate and ask what he planned to do with his new experience points.
“Yes,” said Katalyn with a frown. “I wonder what that’s about.”
She had her suspicions, but she couldn’t share them with Pris; last time the undead plague had surfaced in Undercity, it had been during Nicolai’s ritual to raise Torst as a wraith.
Maybe he’s finally making his move, she thought. The excess of necromantic energy was as good a warning as she was going to get.
Back in one of her hideouts, she had a small coffer with several aureus and a few Treasury notes—enough to buy passage on a ship to Plekth and live on the leftovers until she was established there. She had heard that Ul Bolaz was beautiful this time of the year. The sand of its beaches was white like snow, and the sea was azure, purer than the most powerful Cleric could achieve in a lifetime.
A pair of zombies shambled near an alleyway. The passersby ignored them since there wasn’t any brave youngster around who could benefit from the low-risk encounter. If enough zombies stumbled together, though, it could get dangerous… and then it would be a job for the Watch, since few in Undercity would dare risk their lives for others when they could simply walk briskly around the danger.
Not that Katalyn was judging. She and Pris ignored the zombies too.
Maybe I should get out of town for a while, she thought. Edward was a good guy and all, but he was a Dungeon Lord, and a Dungeon Lord’s presence, despite his best intentions, heralded nothing good for Undercity. Even if Nicolai and the wraith went away.
Katalyn sighed and brushed a curl of hair off her forehead. This isn’t a job for a Thief, she thought. Wetlands, this isn’t a job for me at all. A hero should handle Nicolai. What am I supposed to do, steal his bad intentions away from him? Yes, Plekth was so nice this time of the year. And she knew there were a couple nice merchant ships stationed in port today, about to leave for the golden continent.
A skeleton crawled out of a ditch almost directly in front of Katalyn. It was missing its entire lower half: someone had fought it, but didn’t care to finish the job. Pris scowled and kicked its skull off. The bone glinted in midair for an instant and then disappeared into a pile of horse dung, and the torso crawled blindly in the direction of the dung.
Who am I kidding? Katalyn thought. I only want to get away from Torst. Ah, damn it, what a sad sight I’d make! Katalyn, running away from danger! What would everyone say? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I ran… She gave sad a sigh. Plekth would’ve been nice.
“What’s that about?” Pris asked with evil glee. “You, sighing lo
ngingly?” She inched closer to Katalyn and whispered in her ear. “It’s because of a man, isn’t it, Kat?”
“What?” Katalyn snapped, a bit too fast and defensively. “No! That’s not what I was thinking—” It was too late, she had flinched. Since Pris had taken her by surprise, she had overreacted just a bit much, and she knew her friend would take that as evidence—
“You know, some saw you and that adventurer head upstairs last night,” Pris told her, still grinning.
“No! I mean, yes, but that has nothing to do with—”
“Ah, Kat.” Pris chuckled and ignored the other’s complaints. She showed Katalyn her open palms and shrugged. “Look, I’m not judging your taste in partners. I’m just saying… I’m sensing a pattern, you know?”
Now it was getting a bit grating. Katalyn crossed her arms. “What do you mean?”
“A dangerous adventurer from gods-know-where, who after a single day in Undercity is already trying to become the next Black Market Baron?”
“Not fair at all. Ed’s very sweet, it just so happens that he gives off that vibe—”
“Sure, feign ignorance.” Pris counted with her fingers. “Let’s see. That Necromancer from Galtia that pretended to be a detective?”
“He was a detective! It just so happens that he can speak with the dead! Don’t go around calling him a Necromancer, people get killed for less.”
Another finger. “Brontos Ural Var’Nor—” Pris coughed and mangled the name’s pronunciation “—whatever. The barbarian guy, the one with all the shrunken heads hanging from his loincloth.”
“Brontos is a great guy once you get to know him.” Katalyn could feel her face burning beet red. She eyed the street in search for an escape—even a zombie would’ve been welcome.
“Didn’t he bathe in the blood of his enemies?” Pris pressed on.
“I’m sure he was just boasting to impress me.”
“Whatever!” Pris laughed and threw her hands in the air. “You see what I’m talking about. Adventurers, Necromancers, Barbarians. Soon enough, you’ll end up dating a Dungeon Lord, then all hell will break loose.”
Luckily, Katalyn was an expert card player. She gave her friend a horrified look, made Alita’s sign with her hand, and stole a glance around to confirm that no overzealous Inquisitor had overheard. Then she spotted her salvation, a faint dot close to her feet, small and covered in dust—a few less ranks in Perception and she would’ve missed it. She darted in its direction.
“Where are you going, you coward?” Pris called after her.
“Look, a horned spiderling!” Katalyn said. She rescued it an instant before a looming bird dove in their direction. The bird gave a dejected screech and flew away as the spiderling hid in Katalyn’s hands.
“Are you… are you fucking holding it?” Pris asked with a horrified expression.
Katalyn shushed her friend. The spiderling was very weak and hurt. It was missing a leg and seemed to be on the brink of exhaustion. Even then, it pinched Katalyn’s skin softly with its mandibles, though without hurting her. It was trying to tell her something.
“Get rid of that thing, people will think you’re insane!” Pris urged her.
Katalyn ignored her. “You’re Ed’s spy, aren’t you?” she asked the critter. “You missed him by a few hours. Do you need help to reach the forest?”
The spiderling trembled and bit her a bit harder, enough to sting.
“Scratch that,” Pris went on. “You’re actually insane. You’re talking to a forest critter—while it’s trying to eat you!”
“Hang on a second!” Katalyn told her. She held the spiderling carefully in one of her hands and raised it so Pris could take a good look. “See? It’s trying to tell me something. I think… I think it wants me to follow it.” What else could it want? It was almost jumping away from her hand, doing its best to get her to move in a direction east of the port.
“Are you under the influence of a Control spell?” Pris asked. “Hang in there, let me fetch a Guild spellcaster—”
“You don’t understand,” Katalyn told her. “This is Ed’s spiderling. The adventurer? He used it to spy on Brondan. I think it may have found his hideout.”
Pris cursed and stared at Katalyn in disbelief. She opened her mouth to speak, thought it better, then said, “Better reason to go to the Guild, right?”
Perhaps I should, Katalyn thought. The spiderling urged her forward with unmistakable urgency. Whatever was going on, it was going on right the fuck now. But even then… she wasn’t a hero. She was a Thief, and this wasn’t her job.
The only thing that could be expected out of her was to buy a one-way ticket to Ul Bolaz.
“You go do that,” Katalyn said, shaking her head. She could almost see that Plekthian merchant ship sailing further and further away. “I am not letting that asshole escape.”
And she set off running without waiting for an answer.
21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
NEVER TEMPT FATE
A couple hours later they exited the tunnel and were treated to the view of the valley, partially covered with snow banks about two inches high. The nearby treetops were a mixture of green and pristine white, and Ed could see the glistening ice where puddles had been a couple days ago. He shuddered and closed his coat.
“It’s going to be a pain coming and going from Undercity to the Haunt when the snow gets more intense,” Alder pointed out as they walked.
“Nothing the drones can’t handle,” Ed pointed out. “If necessary, I’ll have them clear a path by eating the snow. Hell, I bet we could make sleds for the barrels and have drones pull them.”
“Drones pulling sleds? You know what, that’s the most Lordly idea I’ve heard in a long time,” Alder said with a laugh. “I can picture it now, you clad in dark, full-plate armor, green cloak hovering in the wind, riding your black sled, spewing eldritch flames…”
“That’s ridiculous,” Kes pointed out.
“I love it,” Ed said. Instead of black armor though, he pictured it red. Did Ivalis have anything like reindeer around?
Now that they were out of the boundaries of Undercity, it was Ed’s favorite time: to figure out what new talents he could buy with his increased skill points.
He had two new talent options, both belonging to his Dungeon Lord advancement-tree. They were unlocked due to his new melee skill, and to his increased Endurance.
Pledge of Bloodshed (50 experience) - Any weapon that the Dungeon Lord wields is treated as a magical weapon. It does damage as if the Lord were using a minor power strike (untalented) with each hit. This bonus stacks with the power strike talent and with damage-enhancing spells like eldritch edge.
Restriction: Selecting this talent locks out the Pledge of Armor advancement option.
Energy Cost: Passive.
Pledge of Armor (50 experience) - Any armor that the Dungeon Lord wears is considered magical, as if it had a minor protection enchantment. This bonus stacks with any protection enchantment the armor may have, or any other similar defensive enchantment. Magical armor can deflect spells of similar power-category, as well as normal weaponry.
Restriction: Selecting this talent locks out the Pledge of Bloodshed advancement option.
Energy Cost: Passive.
Both have huge experience costs, Ed thought. He could afford it, with his pool of eighty, but it worried him to see the costs increase as his total experience grew. It meant he wouldn’t be able to return to old talents later on and cheaply improve his strength. He had to be extra careful with his choices.
On the other hand, both are passive, with no energy cost. That’s a huge bonus. As far as I’ve seen, normal Classes don’t get much in the way of passive talents, at least at this level.
Like with his Aura, he could only choose one of these, and he was partial to the aggressive one. A permanent magical weapon that stacked with eldritch edge? That would allow him to put out a hurting during a fight.
“I’m buying
spellcasting with mine,” Alder muttered, while Ed read the talents’ descriptions.
“Didn’t you have that already?” Kes asked.
“Those are my bardic utterances,” Alder explained. “Different thing. Some Bards never bother learning magic and focus all their talents on improving their utterances. But I learned a thing or two from Lavy, and… well, I’m a bit tired of being useless in combat.” His eyes went out of focus as he made the purchase, and, without warning, the Bard fell to the snowy ground and convulsed.
Kes let out a surprised yell and rushed to the Bard. “Ed!” she called. “What the hell is going on?”
“Ah, don’t worry,” Ed said hurriedly as he helped her support the Bard. “It’s a thing that happens when you buy spellcasting. You have a quick mystical trip. It’s kinda fun,” he assured her. “I wonder what he’s seeing.”
Soon enough, Alder recovered. “Ah!” the Bard said. “Sorry, I forgot to warn you about that, Kes.”
“What did you see?” Ed asked him.
“It was so very weird,” Alder told him with a smile. “And it’s hard to explain… I was a Bard, the leader of a troupe… but it was another world, and everything looked so different… I was playing for thousands of people, Ed, like… So many humans together, clad in black…” He scratched his chin. “Must’ve been some kind of apocalyptic cult. In any case, everyone was cheering for my troupe to arrive to the stage, and when we did—” he made a whooshing sound “—fire everywhere! I thought we were under attack, but it was just an illusion. I used a magical guitar and sang something about puppets, and the crowd went batshit insane!” The Bard had a dreamy expression on his face. “I’d give anything for something like that to happen for real.”
Ed couldn’t help but grin. “You know, there’s nothing stopping you. Black robes come with the Dark package, right?”